


The Past Unleashed

by MiyukiWynter



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2018-04-12 16:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 42,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4486827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiyukiWynter/pseuds/MiyukiWynter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orihara Izaya would never reveal that he was frequently tortured by nightmares. Nor would he reveal the cause of said nightmares. This was his secret which he kept hidden deep inside himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is essentially a preview for my newest fic. I decided to just post the short introductory chapter I had written to see how it is received by readers and go from there! It isn't complete yet, so be warned updates will be slow. Once I have more written, I will add this story to my ff.net account where the rest of my fics are posted. 
> 
> That being said, the timeline of this fic will be picking up after volume 13 of the novels and diverting from there. I plan to incorporate some tidbits I have learned from the new Izaya-centric novel released this year into this fic as well, so be aware that there will be spoilers for these! 
> 
> This fic is Shizaya in the end as just about all of my fics are at this point.

On a crisp, cold night the man in back ran. His dark hair and clothes blended in with the shadows in the night.

He could hear his own heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears. His senses were on high alert, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he navigated his way through the city. It had taken him a while to get his bearings and figure out exactly where he was. Luckily, he wasn't too far away from his own small apartment in Ikebukuro. Relief flooded his mind when he realized that he had a chance of making it home on foot.

However he still wasn't safe yet. There was no time to spare on such thoughts. He needed to focus on his destination.

He wasn't wearing socks and his clothes disheveled as if he had gotten dressed in a hurry--his normally silky smooth black hair was a mess to match. But he didn't care about his appearance at the present moment. His mind was solely focused on one thing:

Gotta get away... Gotta get away...

This thought repeated itself in his mind while wide, auburn eyes darted back and forth in all directions--a stark contrast to the dark bags under his eyes which told a tale of exhaustion.  

Yet he continued to run. Through the pain and numbness that threatened to drag him down into the depths of unconsciousness, he ran.

...~ Seven Years Later ~...

The same man—now older and wiser—tossed and turned in his soft, king-sized bed. When he was awake, he was safe; rational. However, in his sleep he was tormented by images that had been forced into the back of his mind.

Orihara Izaya would never reveal that he was frequently tortured by nightmares. Nor would he reveal the cause of said nightmares. This was his secret which he kept hidden deep inside himself.

Sweat formed on his forehead while his eyes remained shut tight. Raw emotions had their way with him while the images flashed through his unconscious mind.

...~-~...

_Pain._

_There was so much pain and nowhere to hide._

_He was tied down, unable to move—unable to escape._

_The man stood over him. He was whispering something into his ear, but Izaya couldn’t understand what he was saying. His senses were overwhelmed. The white hot sting of searing pain in his left hip. The taste of blood. The smell of sex and burning flesh. The sounds of his own screams. And the sight of the man causing all of this looming above him in the cold, dark, basement._

_He wasn’t sure when it happened, but the man was fucking him now. Forcing his legs apart so he could shove himself inside._

_He could feel bile rise up in his throat. He wanted to throw up but he knew there was nothing in his stomach._

_He was going to die like this. His “master” would keep him here and use him like this until he died._

_He began to cry.  He couldn’t find it in himself to be ashamed to show his emotions. He was going to die here anyway. Why should he bother trying to save his dignity?_

_Just when he thought it couldn’t hurt anymore, his master pulled his hair, exposing his neck. He bit down hard on the pale flesh as he came. Maybe his screams had gotten his master off. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t care. He just wanted to get away from this pain._

_He prayed he could hurry up and die._

…~-~…

Izaya woke with a scream trapped in his throat. He was drenched in sweat and his heart was racing. He wiped at his face to find that tears had fallen down his cheeks. He quickly moved to dry them with his sleeve. Finally taking a moment to calm his breathing, Izaya glanced around at his surroundings.

He was in his bedroom. The lights from the city pouring in through the window. The scent of fabric softener surrounded him from his freshly washed sheets.

“It was only a dream…” he whispered to himself.

Shifting in his pajamas, Izaya grimaced. His clothes were damp with sweat, forcing him to pull himself out of bed and over to his dresser. After a quick change of clothes, Izaya went across the hall into the bathroom where he kept a glass for water. He navigated between rooms in the darkness, legs feeling weak at the images flashing through his mind from his dream.

“It was only a dream…” he repeated.

Finally falling back into bed, Izaya wrapped himself in his blankets and shivered. He inhaled the clean scent of his blanket, running his fingers over the super-soft material trying to replace the horrid nightmare that had filled his senses with the comfort of his own bed.

He took a few more deep breaths, and within minutes he was drifting back to sleep, fingers still clutching the soft blanket. In his mind, he kept repeating the mantra “It was only a dream… It was only a dream…”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and probably the rest of the fic contains SPOILERS FOR VOLUME 13 OF THE NOVELS!! (Anime only folks be aware!!)
> 
> So I'm posting this a little sooner than anticipated because it's done so I might as well. Once I get through these exposition chapters I think this fic will start going a lot faster! Sorry if this and the next chapter are a little dull... It's just plot that needs to be established. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and thank you those of you who left kudos!!

Starting with a clean slate was hard.

Straightening his back, Izaya yawned into the back of his hand. He was still rather tried from being unable to sleep peacefully the previous night. With a long sigh, Izaya stretched his arms above his head—flinching at the slight jolt of pain that shot from his wrists and down his spine.   

It had been two months since what Izaya had decided to call "the end". Shizuo had made it abundantly clear that he was no longer going to let Izaya into his life with one simple word; Goodbye. It seemed that they had both planned to kill the other that evening. In fact, that's precisely what Izaya had counted on.

Izaya wished for one of two outcomes: Either he would finally destroy Shizuo, or Shizuo would destroy him. Either way it could have worked out, Izaya would be released.

Released from the suffering he had endured from Shizuo's existence in his life...

Izaya had accepted his feelings for Shizuo a long time ago; however, his acceptance didn't mean he would act on what he felt.

He fell in love with a monster. No—a human wearing the skin of a monster. He could no longer deny Shizuo's humanity after their last fight. Because in the end, Shizuo did not kill him. Once again they were interrupted. This time by none other than Celty and that Vorona woman. Izaya grimaced when he thought about her. She had gotten involved in their fight at just the right moment to ruin everything.

Izaya loved humanity. However there was one human he was determined not to love. Heiwajima Shizuo had been known as a monster in Izaya's mind ever since the moment he fell in love. In doing this, Izaya was able to tell himself he was not allowed to show love for Shizuo because he was not human. It was the only way he was able to protect himself from his own feelings.

He had been prepared to end it all. To either kill or be killed. But Shizuo was the only one in this world by whom he would allow himself to be killed, and that woman had almost ruined his plan.

The two of them walking away from that fight alive was not an option he had planned for. Yet here he was, three months later, back in his apartment in Shinjuku as if things could go back to normal. However Izaya knew better. Things would never go back to normal. Not for him, not for Shizuo, not even for Ikebukuro.

Lying in bed with two broken arms and a knife wound among various other injuries really humbles a person. It gives them time to think and reflect on their mistakes.

Involving Shizuo in his life had been the first mistake. Falling in love had been the second and most devastating mistake. Yet despite this realization, he couldn't bring himself to completely regret the years of his life he had spent trying to remedy his mistake by proving Shizuo to be a monster. After all, it had been entertaining while it lasted.  

However all of that was over now. Izaya didn't plan to show his face in Ikebukuro ever again. It would likely hurt his business, but he could still find ways of remaining in contact with his clients in Ikebukuro.

"You should be happy, Shizu-chan," Izaya said quietly to himself in his empty apartment, "I am finally gonna stay away..."

Izaya closed his eyes, taking in the silence of his apartment. He would have to get used to no longer hearing Namie typing at her laptop or fussing around in the kitchen. She had left for America to study Celty's head for Nebula leaving Izaya back to working alone. Of course, he managed to get one final job out of her. She had the honor of arranging Izaya's treatment in a hospital outside of Tokyo.

The time he spent in the hospital was much shorter than it should have been. Izaya had voluntarily removed himself from physical rehabilitation in favor of moving to a temporary apartment. He couldn't risk staying in one place much longer with the injuries he had sustained.

As a result, Izaya was still not able to run or walk long distances. His arms along with most of his body were weak and still ached as a result of being bedridden. Possibly worse than his physical condition was realizing the toll a duel to the death had put on his mind. As a person who feared death more than anything, resigning himself to kill or be killed had been difficult. Even more difficult when an unforeseen third option threw itself into the mix. As a result of this emotional stress combined with the physical pain he has been dealing with, Izaya found himself terrified to face Shizuo again in a fight.

This was one of the main reasons for his current plans to leave Tokyo—or even Japan—for good. This was how he wanted it. Everything had gotten too complicated in the past two years—not that it wasn’t fun, but everyone needs to realize there is a time to move on.

His thoughts drifted back to that day rather often. How it should have ended versus where he was now.

Izaya sighed once again. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on it any longer. After all, he and Shizuo were through. Done.

…

Why did that thought always make his chest tighten…?

Distracting himself from his thoughts, Izaya picked up one of his new phones (yes, all new phones, all new numbers) and dialed a familiar number. He couldn’t stay away forever. Even if he would only be back temporarily, he still needed a source of income.

“Hello?” a cool voice answered.

“Shiki-san,” Izaya stated.

“Orihara?” Shiki almost sounded shocked, “Where have you been? Not even my best men could locate you.”

“Ahh, I was… Away for a while,” Izaya responded, “I’m planning on restarting my business with only my best clients, leaving the spares behind. The number I am calling from is my new work number. You’re the first on my list to contact.”

“I assume this means you are eliminating distractions? As I recall you had been getting a touch too involved with… other matters.”

“You are correct, Shiki-san. I assure you from this moment on I will be focused solely on work and starting over with a clean slate.”

“Clean?” Shiki chuckled, “Orihara, you have made enough enemies in the past. Escaping for a few months and changing your phone number isn’t going to erase that. Your past will always find you in the ways you least expect it.”

“I will keep that in mind. For now, save my number. We can begin business as usual. I am at your service.”

“Glad to hear you’re enthusiastic. Welcome back, Orihara.”

Neither says goodbye before the call is ended and Izaya is left once again in silence.

It felt strange to be back in his apartment after so long. Over the years he had gotten used to being alone in his apartment, however now the silence was unsettling.

Fighting the urge to shudder, Izaya pushed away from his desk with the intention to make a pot of tea when a new email caught his eye.

It was from an “unknown sender”. He was about to disregard it as spam until he read the subject line.

“Do you think you are safe, Orihara Izaya?”

Izaya raised a brow. It could be a virus meant to catch his attention. It could be personalized spam.

Or it could be a real threat.

Considering the risks for a moment, Izaya decided he would take care of it after he made his tea. However once again, he was interrupted—this time by the ringing of his only old phone he hadn’t ditched yet.

Staring at the screen which read “restricted number”, Izaya hesitated. Something felt wrong here. Even through every inch of him was screaming at him not to answer, Izaya still reached a steady hand out to answer the call.

“Hello?” he answered, hating the hesitation evident in his voice.

“It’s been a while, Izaya. You’re doing well I trust?”

Izaya’s grip on his phone went slack for a moment, the device nearly slipping from his hand. His thoughts scattered while his body tensed in response to a voice he hadn’t heard in seven years. For a moment he was unable to breathe until he forced himself to take a deep, shaky breath.

The voice on the other line chuckled. “It seems you remember my voice just fine. Did you get my email?”

Once again Izaya remained silent. His mouth went dry and his body began to shake. Trying to speak was out of the question when he couldn’t take a breath deep enough to get air into his lungs.

The voice continued speaking anyway. “Your silence says more than you ever could with those clever words of yours. I’m impressed with your success. That’s a rather nice apartment you have.”

This time Izaya couldn’t stop the shudder that tore down his spine. The email sat in his inbox and Izaya stared at it.

No, he didn’t feel safe. Not anymore. It was obvious that this man knew where he lived and that was unacceptable.

“You haven’t gotten any stronger, have you? If my voice is enough to send you into a panic like this, I wonder what seeing my face again would do, hm? Why don’t you take a look out the window?”

“No,” Izaya finally found his voice, though it was more of a whisper than anything.

“Ah! He speaks!” the voice said cheerfully, “Well whether you choose to look or not, right now I can just barely see you at your desk from the streets down here. As I said, it looks like a lovely home.”

Izaya wished he hadn’t looked. Nausea swept over him and vertigo threatened to send him tumbling to the floor. All because right across the street from his apartment, he could see the face that had haunted his dreams for seven years.

The man’s mouth moved as his voice rang loud and clear in Izaya’s head. “I have returned to get my slave back.”

A primal rage flooded Izaya’s brain at those words. "Stay away from me," he said in a flat tone. Then, harshly pressing the “end call” button, Izaya leapt out of his chair, ignoring the pain in his legs. Working quickly with a blank expression on his face, Izaya grabbed his laptop and went straight for the front closet where he kept a pre-packed bag for emergencies.

Throwing his coat on, Izaya slipped two phones into his pocket, the third in his hand, already searching for a hotel. Bag over his shoulder, Izaya slipped out through the fire escape in the back of the building. The stairs strained his body past what he should be able to handle in his condition, but the adrenaline pumping through him kept him moving. He weaved through alleyways behind the building until he came out on the other side where he waved down a taxi.

Giving an address to the driver, Izaya took a moment to close his eyes and assess the situation. He could hide temporarily. But he would need to do something quickly. This man was dangerous and as long as he was walking the streets of Tokyo, Izaya would never be safe.

Izaya Glanced out the back window of the car, eyes meeting with the eyes of the man who had the potential to destroy everything he had ever worked for standing at the end of the street. As the car began moving, the man smiled and Izaya’s blood ran cold.

As the taxi turned a corner, hiding the man from Izaya’s sight, Shiki’s words echoed in his mind.

“Your past will always find you in the ways you least expect it.”

Izaya’s grip tightened on his bag. He had said similar words to others before. It was ironic that now he was forced to face his past so suddenly and at quite possibly the most inconvenient time of his life.

Swallowing hard, Izaya pushed his anxiety to the back of his mind. He couldn’t let himself panic. Fear was the enemy.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long and is so short...

The lock was latched, the curtains were closed, and the lights were off.

A dim, blue glow barely illuminated the room in which a young man sat. Although many know this man as Orihara Izaya, he was practically unrecognizable in the past few hours.

 Confident, bright eyes were replaced by eyes which darted around anxiously at every small noise outside his door. A bold yet relaxed posture was replaced by hunched shoulders and timid movements. 

It was almost as if a scared child had been placed into the body of the one known as Orihara Izaya.

However this was no impostor. 

Izaya had been staring at the screen of his laptop for hours, trying to dig up information and set a plan in motion. Yet all he had managed to do so far was confirm what he already knew to be fact: That a man by the name of Kimura Jiro had been released from prison after completing his seven year sentence. 

Who was this man in relation to Orihara Izaya? Only Izaya and Jiro knew the answer to that. Neither had ever spoken a word to anyone about the other. For Jiro, this meant he had no need to worry about others stepping in unless Izaya spoke up. For Izaya, it meant he had no one to turn to for help. 

Slamming his laptop shut, Izaya tossed it into his bag along with his other unpacked belongings. He was currently sitting on the bed in a hotel a few miles from his apartment in Shinjuku. After giving the cab driver an address, he also instructed the driver to take a strange route which involved many turns and backtracking before arriving at the hotel. He hoped it would be enough to hide his current location, but he couldn’t be sure. 

Izaya did not sleep that night. Every sound outside the door had him on edge. His knife never left his grip, even during the few minutes of sleep he managed to get before something startled him awake again. 

A few minutes after daybreak, Izaya received an email via one of his new phones. He had left the old one at his apartment to avoid it being traced. Cautiously opening his inbox, Izaya stared at the new message that had appeared above the message from yesterday. The phrase “Do you feel safe, Orihara?” making his heart race once again. 

The new message had no subject, but was from the same sender. Izaya hesitated but decided it would be best to keep updated on his situation. 

Izaya’s eyes widened. He leapt off the bed and gathered the few belongings he had unpacked and threw them back into his bag.

 

The screen of his phone was still lit up on the bed by the time he had thrown the bag over his shoulder.

The phone was open to an email. The email contained an address and nothing more. 

It was the address of the hotel he was currently inside. 

At 8:04 am, Nakura checked out of the hotel. 

…~-~... 

The rest of the week followed a frighteningly similar pattern. Every day Izaya received an email containing nothing more than the address of whichever hotel he was staying at. Every day Izaya jumped to another hotel in a seemingly random pattern. He was currently in Yokohama. 

It was the 8th morning when Izaya’s phone vibrated with an email. By now he was prepared to see the address of the hotel despite the small part of him that hoped he wouldn’t be found this time. However something was different. Written underneath the address was a number.

His room number. 

This was getting ridiculous. He knew he had to act soon yet the lack of sleep was preventing his thoughts from remaining coherent for more than a few minutes. He’d have to make a slightly more drastic move this time. And he’d have to take extra care to cover his tracks. 

Five hours later, after sneaking out of his hotel room, switching between trains and cabs, Izaya arrived in Kyoto. He chose a cheaper, less conspicuous hotel in the area in hopes that somehow he wouldn’t be found there. 

 

…~One Week Later~...

There had been nothing so far. No strange emails or phone calls, and no sign that he had been followed. The first night had been almost entirely sleepless and was spent staring at his phone as if daring it to vibrate with an email notification. However the only emails he had gotten were spam and a few potential clients which he promptly ignored. 

Izaya lay spread eagle on the bed, his hair still damp from his shower. The past few nights he had been able to get just enough sleep to feel confident in his ability to think up a plan.

He could frame him for a crime. But he would probably be able to find an alibi… Also that plan depended solely on a major crime to be committed and left unsolved. He could set him up to commit a real crime, but he was too smart to fall for a trap like that…

He could hire a hit man… 

But Jiro could probably talk or pay the hit man onto his side… 

He could call the police and tell the truth… but there was no direct evidence to prove Izaya’s claim. Even if he told the truth, it had been years since the original incident and any possible DNA evidence was long gone.

 As he stared at the ceiling, Izaya realized just how unprepared he was for this to happen. He had gotten distracted by everything happening in Ikebukuro that he had forgotten to find a permanent solution to his… problem. 

One thing was for sure. He couldn’t run like this forever. He was running low on his savings after staying in hotels for the past few months since his fight with Shizuo, and he was finding it very difficult to get any work done under these conditions. 

There was no denying it. He would have to return home soon. He would need to upgrade his security system and maybe hire a bodyguard. 

Izaya sighed. Until he found a sufficient solution, it seemed that a body guard was his best option. He’d have to do extensive research on anyone he hired to make sure they aren’t secretly working with Jiro… It would have to be someone he could trust. 

A small laugh escaped him despite everything. _Someone he could trust._ There wasn’t a single person he could think of who he could trust with a job like this. 

But he’d just have to figure something out. 

Sparing a glance towards the door, Izaya checked that the lock was still latched. He then allowed his eyes to slip closed. A temporary plan would have to suffice for now, he decided. 

Ten minutes later Izaya slipped into a dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catching up to a section of this fic which I already have written meaning updates might come a little faster now. Hopefully.

It had been three weeks since he had received the phone call from Jiro. He had spent those three weeks with minimal contact with the outside world, hiding from someone he was not ready to face.

Izaya sighed. He would rather face Shizuo again than have Jiro within 100 meters of him. At least Shizuo would end his life quickly... At least if he didn’t try to fight back. A shudder made its way down his spine at the thought and he suddenly became more aware of the pain that still lingered from the last time he faced Shizuo.

Doing a few stretches helped ease the pain. In the past 3 weeks he had been hotel hopping, Izaya had been working on his physical rehabilitation on his own. He needed to get his strength back quickly, as a confrontation with Jiro could happen any day now. Not that Jiro was particularly strong. Not nearly as strong as Shizuo… but the psychological effects that hearing Jiro’s voice over the phone had caused made Izaya weary. He felt as if he might not be able to fight properly even if he were at full health.

Nevertheless, Izaya had been trying to rehabilitate himself. He doubted he could run very far, but he could at least do a few, shaky pushups. That was definitely an improvement after a dislocated shoulder and two broken arms. He knew he shouldn’t be pushing himself so soon, but he needed to do something to prepare himself before the time came to go back to his apartment.

He at least had some semblance of a plan. If he could find a good bodyguard, he could buy himself more time. The problem was finding a good bodyguard in the first place. This was a different situation than when he enlisted Dragon Zombie to guard him from “Yodogiri”. Jiro was specifically after him and no one else. He would need to have someone guarding him constantly as opposed to only being guarded only when he left the apartment. He might even need to be protected through the night if possible.

There was no one Izaya could trust—especially not a stranger—to perform that part of the task. Nor could he trust Dragon Zombie if he were to contact them again. He would have to use someone he knew personally…

Someone strong… who can’t be taken down easily by weapons or drugs…

But there wasn’t anyone like that. Well, except—

“No,” Izaya whispered into the silence of the room.

He wouldn't ask him. Maybe he could get Celty to... nah, Celty would ask too many questions and even if she didn't, Shinra surely would to ensure his darling wasn't in danger.

All other options were exhausted in less than 10 minutes. Celty seemed to be the only viable option, but it still came down to the fact that she and Shinra were basically inseparable. The last resort being the option he was trying to avoid…

Shizuo was definitely strong enough. His resistance to physical damage was legendary and according to Shinra, it took quite a lot for drugs to have a noticeable effect.

In the end it seemed to come down to choosing the lesser of the two evils: try to cut a deal with Shizuo and hope he accepts, or face Jiro alone and risk his life. No, worse; his freedom.

He knew what he would have to do, but he couldn’t seem to gather the courage required to do it.

He’d have to do it quick—like ripping off a bandaid or jumping into cold water—so he didn’t have the time to overthink it.

The phone was in his hand. He had already deleted Shizuo’s number from his phone, but he still remembered it.

Hands shaking, he typed in the number and stared at it for a moment.

What am I doing…? What are the consequences of actually calling this number?

It’s Shizu-chan or Jiro. I have no choice.

With that thought in his mind, Izaya pressed the call button.

The phone rang a few times and for a moment Izaya wondered about the possibility that Shizuo had changed his number in the past couple months.

The thought was shattered when he heard the unmistakable sound of Shizuo’s voice answering.

“Hello…?”

Izaya froze. What was he thinking? This would never work…

I have no choice… I have to try…

Heart pounding and mouth dry, Izaya finally spoke. “Shizu-chan…”

Silence.

Izaya waited for a reply. Something to tell him whether or not this was going to be a complete disaster.

“... So you’re alive then…?” Shizuo’s response was almost muttered into the receiver, but Izaya could still hear him clearly.

“Yes,” Izaya replied almost as quietly.

“What do you want?” the voice on the other end sounded much more like the Shizuo he was used to hearing. Demanding and slightly irritated.

“I need you to listen to something of a proposition and resist hanging up on me until I’ve explained everything.”

“Why should I?” Shizuo spat, “You don’t deserve my attention after what you did.”

Izaya closed his eyes. Shizuo’s words hurt, but only because they were true.

“Because I really need your help with something right now and—”

“Help?!” Shizuo interrupted, “You’re barking up the wrong tree. You just want to set me up again because you’re upset you couldn’t finish me off!”

“Shizuo, please listen—”

“No. No, Izaya. You have no right asking me for help after everything you’ve done to me. I don’t want to help you and I don’t care about whatever trouble you’ve gotten yourself into. Just leave me alone and stay out of Ikebukuro. Goodbye.”

“Wait—!!”

CLICK.

The phone still pressed against his ear, Izaya sighed. He hadn’t been expecting it to go smoothly, but he was at least hoping to have the chance to explain himself before being turned away.

Turning on his side, Izaya tried to calm himself. In under a minute he was able to stop his limbs from trembling and had his breathing back to a normal pace. Pulling himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, Izaya did the only thing he knew how to do. He forced down his feelings of anxiety. Buried them deep within himself until only a calm exterior remained. Panicking wasn’t going to solve anything. It was time to go home and stop running.

Maybe he would be able to call in a favor with the Awakusu to borrow a bodyguard or two for a little while. One of Shiki’s men maybe. Anyone Shiki trusted enough to be around him while doing business would be good enough for now.

With his decision made, Izaya threw together his belongings and began his trip home.

…~-~...

What on earth had that been about?

Shizuo stared at his phone as if it had offended him by allowing a phone call from a device owned by Orihara Izaya.

But was that really Izaya? Shizuo asked himself. After all, the voice on the other end of the line was different than the voice he recognized. He might not even have known it was him if he hadn’t used the name “Shizu-chan”.

He couldn’t place what made that voice sound so different.

“Tch. Who cares, anyway?” he grumbled.

Flipping his phone shut and sliding it into his pocket, Shizuo continued on his way home unaware of the eyes watching him from a distance.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter... I swear there will be some longer ones coming up!!

“Welcome home!” the email said.

Scrolling down revealed a photograph embedded into the email. A photograph of the very room he had been staying in for the past two weeks. And underneath that was a continuation of the message:

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay at this place too long. The rooms aren’t your preferred style. Glad to see you’ve made it back home.”

Izaya’s eyes glanced towards the door. He had barricaded it with a bookshelf. It could probably be knocked over fairly easy if someone really wanted to get in, but at least he would hear the noise from anywhere in the apartment. A warning was better than nothing.

The bookshelf would have to be moved soon. He had made a call to Shiki shortly after returning home. Most of the food in his refrigerator (which was very little to begin with) had gone bad during his absence and he would need to make a trip out to the store.

After a few minutes of negotiations, Izaya was able to convince Shiki to let him borrow a few men to guard him whenever he had to leave the apartment. He did not, however, permit Izaya to station a guard at his apartment, leaving Izaya to defend himself if necessary.

A knock on the door startled Izaya. After a few seconds the shock wore off and he went to move the shelf away from the door.

Shiki’s men gave him a strange look when they saw the shelf which had only been moved a short distance from the door allowing Izaya to slip outside. He chose to ignore their confusion in favor of getting his shopping over with.

…~-~...

Roughly an hour later Izaya was cursing his luck as he quickly slipped inside his apartment alone. Shiki’s men were clearly not the ideal choice. They had guarded him throughout his shopping, however, half way back to his apartment they were pulled into a bit of trouble by a rival yakuza group. The altercation was enough to draw attention, meaning Izaya wanted nothing to do with it.

Gasping for breath as a result of sprinting up the stairs (he didn’t want to allow the chance for Jiro to catch him in the elevator), Izaya dropped his groceries, locked the door, and pushed the bookshelf back into place. The physical exertion quickly made itself known when his legs began to cramp and pain radiated from every one of his joints. He was clearly still lacking his former strength.

Next, knife in hand, Izaya ignored the pain for a little longer in favor of performing a quick sweep of the apartment. He checked the closets, bathroom, kitchen, and even under his bed. He didn’t return the knife to his pocket until he was sure he was alone.

This wouldn’t do. He needed a bodyguard who wouldn’t get distracted from their job like that.

With the groceries put away, Izaya decided to make himself a pot of tea--after downing a few painkillers, that is. After bringing his cup with him to the couch, Izaya stared at his phone.

Maybe he could try calling him again…

No… He already said he wouldn’t. There would be no changing his mind.

But why were his instincts telling him he should try…?

Because I’m still attached to him… Izaya realized. No, I want him to be the one to guard me because he could actually do it properly… If he didn’t want to kill me already.

Izaya closed his eyes.

“Fuck…” he whispered, “I still… Why do I… After everything that’s happened... ”

He couldn’t say the words, but he felt them. He knew they were true as much as he would like to deny it.

His feelings aside, convincing Shizuo to help was becoming more and more appealing.

“Once more,” he said, channeling as much confidence as he could manage while reaching for the phone, “If I still can’t convince him, I won’t ever try again.”

Riiiinnngg… Riiiinnngg… Riiiinnngg… Riiiinnngg…

“What is it now, Flea?” Shizuo answered with a growl.

“The same as last time... ” Izaya said quietly, “Shizuo, I will cut right to the chase, I need you to be my bodyguard.”

“Your… what?!”

“I will pay you. Whatever you want I just--”

“I want to kill you! I almost did!”

“Right now you killing me is much less of a threat.”

“Why me of all people?”

“Because I have no one else. Please, Shizuo, you don’t understand I--”

“Well whose fault is that?!” Shizuo interjected once again, “You should have thought of that before making so many enemies. You probably deserve whatever this guy is gonna do to you. What did you do to him? Get his family murdered by the Yakuza?”

“You know nothing, Shizuo.” The words were spoken filled with malice. Izaya felt a deep rage begin to bubble to the surface. Shizuo could insult him all he wanted and he could take it. But that struck a nerve. If Shizuo really thinks he deserved… that...

“I’ve changed my mind,” Izaya continued, anger still present in his voice, “If that’s what you think then I don’t want your help.”

There was a silence on the other end of the line but Izaya didn’t wait for Shizuo to speak before hanging up and throwing his phone across the room. It shattered and fell to the floor with a thud.

Izaya collapsed back onto the couch and curled up on his side. His hands pulled at his hair and he bit his lip hard. He deserved that punch in the face from Simon. He may have even deserved getting stabbed in the streets by “Yodogiri”. And he deserved the injuries he received from his last fight with Shizuo.

But he didn’t believe he deserved the torture he had endured at Jiro’s hand.

Shizuo knew nothing of what he had been through. Of who this man really is and what he is capable of doing without a speck of remorse.

The pain…

The humiliation…

It all came flooding into his mind at once. The overwhelming physical and psychological torment was more than anyone should have to bear.

His hand dropped from his hair to be placed over his hip--over a specific patch of skin that bore a permanent mark of his past… One of many…

A prickling sensation in his eyes startled Izaya for a moment. It wasn’t until he removed his hand from his hip and wiped at this cheek that he realized he was crying.

Quickly wiping the tears away, Izaya forced himself to sit up on the couch. He reached for his teacup and held it close, feeling the warmth of the liquid inside. With a deep sigh, Izaya began to sip at his tea to help calm his racing heart while he stared blankly at this blurred reflection in the blank television screen.

…~-~...

“You know nothing, Shizuo.”

The words echoed in his head even an hour after their conversation had ended. Something in Izaya’s tone had silenced anything else Shizuo had planned to say. It was true, though. He didn’t know anything about why Izaya was calling him or who he needed protection from.

Is it just another trick? Or is the situation really so bad that he is desperate enough to come to me for help?

Either way it seemed like he wouldn’t be hearing from Izaya again any time soon.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter begins the graphic violence that this fic is flagged for. Not too much in this chapter, but there will be more very soon.

It was just past midnight when Shizuo found himself standing at the door of the man he despised. Feeling rather awkward, he wasn’t sure whether he should call the phone of the man inside, or just knock.

But why was he here, of all places? And at such a late hour?

The truth was that he had spent the past eight hours debating whether or not to show up at this very door.

And he wouldn’t have even considered being here in the first place if it hadn’t been for a certain object that had been given to him earlier that day.

…~Ten hours ago~...

Tom and Shizuo stood dumbstruck at the cash being held out by the man before them. Granted, he hadn’t owed much, but it was still strange to see someone who actually had the money when they came knocking.

“It’s all here,” the man said proudly.

Tom hesitantly took the money and began counting to confirm that for once, his job really was that easy, when the man spoke up again.

“Truthfully I didn’t have the money before and wasn’t sure what I would do when someone came to collect the debt, but some guy showed up at just the right time.”

Tom and Shizuo both raised a brow at this statement, waiting for the man to continue his story.

“He gave me the money for free as long as I agreed to pass something on to you. Well, you specifically,” he continued, pointing to Shizuo as he spoke, “You’re Heiwajima Shizuo, right?”

“...I am…?” Shizuo replied.

“Here,” the man said, holding out a small paper envelope, “I guess you’re supposed to have this. I have no idea what it is. He said not to break the seal before giving it to you.”

Wordlessly, Shizuo took the envelope. He tore open one end and tipped the contents into his hand.

A single, unmarked DVD slid into his grasp.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, turning the disc in his hands to inspect it.

The man only shrugged. “Like I said, I have no idea. That person just told me to deliver it to you when you came to collect the debt and he would pay it for me. That’s all I know.”

“Who was this person?” Tom questioned, finally back to reality after his astonishment over an easy job.

“He didn’t give me his name. That was really suspicious honestly… But he gave me his word that I would never see or hear from him again if I did what he asked. He seemed like the type to stick by his word. That’s all I owe you, right?”

“Y-yeah, that’s all of it,” Tom replied, “Well, I guess we’ll be going… Shizuo everything okay?”

“Huh?” Shizuo finally looked up from the DVD in his hands to acknowledge Tom’s question. “Yeah, I guess I’ll just… hold on to this then…”

…~-~...

He should have smashed it. Burned it. Crumpled it to pieces and thrown it into Tokyo bay. He never should have watched it.

When he popped the DVD into the DVD player his eyes were instantly met with something he knew he was never supposed to see.

It took him a moment to realize what he was seeing.

It was a dimly lit room. There was a small, too thin man kneeling on the floor with his back to the camera, his arms stretched out to either side and tied to the frame of a bed in front of him.

Shizuo knew nothing he was about to see was good, but his curiosity kept him from turning it off.

A man was speaking. He seemed to have turned the camera on while in mid conversation, however the man kneeling on the floor didn’t seem to be aware he was being filmed.

“--haven’t been listening very well. I told you from the beginning you must follow orders or else you will regret it. I think it’s time to show you what that kind of regret feels like, Izaya.”

Shizuo’s jaw dropped.

Izaya?!

The flea must be into some sick shit. Or he just sent this to mess with him. It very well could have been Izaya who gave this DVD to that guy from earlier.

*CRACK*

A noise startled both Shizuo and the Izaya in the video. When the camera focused better, he could see a whip in the hand of the man who had been speaking.

*CRACK* 

*CRACK*

Twice more the cracking of the whip pierced Shizuo’s ears.

Until finally, the fourth CRACK was joined by a scream. It was Izaya’s voice screaming. Bright red began pouring from the fresh wound across his back.

It was then that Shizuo realized the truth.

Izaya was in this against his will.

Shizuo’s eyes glanced around the screen until they stopped on the bottom right corner. The date of the video was displayed there.

This video was recorded seven years ago.

Another CRACK followed by a scream brought Shizuo’s attention back to the video. There was blood pouring down Izaya’s back now.

A grimace spread over Shizuo’s face. He wanted to turn it off, but he was frozen on the spot. Shizuo became nauseous when he heard Izaya’s voice begging for it to stop.

By the time it finally seemed like it was over, Shizuo’s mouth was dry.

He watched in horror as the man set the whip down and walked over to where Izaya sat, crumpled, bleeding, and crying.

The man unzipped his pants and gripped Izaya by his hair, pulling him up.

“Now suck it,” he said, and the screen went black.

Brown, horror struck eyes stared at the blank screen while his brain struggled to process what he had just seen.

He remained like that for an hour before he finally understood.

That man.

That man in the video must be the one. The one that Izaya is so desperate for protection from.

“Damn it…” Shizuo whispered to himself. It had been a week since he and Izaya had last spoken. If he was right in thinking that the man in the video was the reason Izaya was asking for help…

“You should have thought of that before making so many enemies. You probably deserve whatever this guy is gonna do to you.”

Holding his head in his hands, Shizuo concluded that no one really deserves what he just witnessed. He had to admit that not even Izaya deserved that kind of treatment. And if that man was freely walking the streets right now…

Shizuo suppressed a shudder. If he could do that to Izaya, how many other people could he hurt?

He had to find out the truth of this video. Who was that man and where was he now? Who wanted him to see this video and why? There was only one way he could know for sure.

And that was what brought him to Izaya’s door just after midnight.

He needed answers because he couldn’t sleep with Izaya’s screams echoing in his head.

Knocking once more, Shizuo listened for any sign of movement. What he heard was a loud thump followed by a crash that sounded like something breaking.

For reasons Shizuo could not fathom, a jolt of fear shot through him.

Am I too late? Is Izaya in trouble?

He didn’t spend hours contemplating whether or not to show up here just to find Izaya already missing or dead.

Without thinking of the consequences, Shizuo slammed against the door hard enough to break the latch, but something stopped the door from swinging open. Carefully, he pushed on the door, realizing there was a piece of furniture blocking the door. When he finally was able to poke his head inside, he saw that it was a bookshelf.

Looking up to scan the room, Shizuo’s gaze was quickly met with the glint of metal aimed directly at him.

After a few moments, Shizuo was finally able to process what he was seeing. There was a gun pointed at him. The gun was held by Izaya himself who was half kneeling on the staircase across the room. But even from that distance, Shizuo could see that Izaya’s hands were shaking.

Their eyes locked for a few seconds until finally, Izaya’s grip on the gun slackened and he lowered the weapon only slightly. It seemed he was still considering using it.

“What are you doing here?” Izaya spat.

It was then that Shizuo noticed how terrible Izaya looked. It had been a while since he had last seen Izaya face to face. He was unnaturally thin and pale. When Shizuo finally looked Izaya in the eyes, he could see that even they looked different. Izaya’s eyes were lacking their usual brightness. Instead they looked tired and empty.

The difference made him feel uncomfortable.

Like this person in front of him wasn’t really Orihara Izaya at all.

“What was that bang?” Shizuo replied to Izaya’s question with another because truthfully he wasn’t sure how to answer the question at hand.

“I tripped,” Izaya said expressionlessly, “And I dropped my tea.” He gestured to the floor where a teacup lay in pieces. “Now answer my question.”

“Can I come in…? I don’t want to talk to you through the door like this.”

“Fine. You’ve already broken the door anyway.”

“Oh, yeah…” Shizuo looked up and down at the door, “Sorry,” he said, slipping through the space between the wall and bookshelf.

When Shizuo was finally inside, he replaced the door the best that he could. It wasn’t too bad. It was still on the hinges thanks to the bookshelf holding it in place.

Spinning around, Shizuo found Izaya was already on his feet, picking up the broken pieces of his teacup with his right hand, the gun still held in his left.

“You can put that away,” Shizuo said, gesturing to the gun, “I… I’m not here for a fight.”

“So what are you here for, then?” Izaya said, anger clearly showing in his expression now, “It’d better be good because now I won’t be able to lock the door tonight thanks to you.”

“Izaya…” Shizuo said quietly, looking the smaller man up and down, “You’re shaking.”

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

“Izaya… You’re shaking.”

Izaya was offended by that statement. Yeah, he knew he was shaking. He had been so startled by the knock at the door that he had tripped and dropped his tea. When he caught himself, pain flared in his arms which were still not quite back to full strength.

On top of that, he was fully expecting to see Jiro’s face pop in rather than Shizuo. Granted, Jiro probably couldn’t knock a barricaded door off of its hinges (which he was furious about, by the way), but Izaya wasn’t exactly thinking rationally lately. Shizuo was lucky he hesitated to fire.

Yet deep down, he still wanted to. He wanted to put a bullet into Shizuo’s head as punishment for the pain that still lingered from their last meeting. The pain that made him feel too weak to defend himself from the man he was expecting to walk through that door.

And it was that lingering pain that had Izaya feeling rather anxious to be alone with Shizuo. The last time they stood face to face, he had nearly been killed. One part of the many reasons for his shaking limbs was the fact that he was actually terrified of another one-on-one fight with the strongest man in Ikebukuro.

After all, he really didn’t want to die…

As anxiety, pain, anger, and fear swirled within him, Izaya realized he was slipping. The more he thought about the reasons behind his trembling limbs, the more uncontrollable it became.

For a moment, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He recognized this feeling. This horrible feeling of dread and fear. It had been years since he felt it like this…

“H-hey, Izaya? Hey!”

Shizuo’s voice boomed in his ears and the thought of Shizuo seeing him like this only sent him further down.

Izaya collapsed.

Everything was too much. The lights felt too bright, Shizuo’s voice sounded too loud.

He was holding onto the railing of the stairs in an attempt to keep himself upright because if he let go he would surely spiral down into an endless dark pit. Or at least that’s what it felt like.

Something warm was on his arm now. It didn’t feel pleasant right now. Another warm spot was on his other shoulder.

“Fucking flea, answer me!”

He’s touching me. Izaya suddenly realized.

What would come next? Would he break his arms again? Tear them off? Leave him completely at Jiro’s mercy?

The simple feeling of being touched did not feel simple at all. It was completely overwhelming, making Izaya want to scream.

“Don’t touch me!” he yelled instead. Unsure of how he was able to form a sentence when everything felt so damn confusing.

Shizuo’s hands left him instantly and Izaya tried not to crumple into the floor. He held tightly onto the railing to keep himself grounded.

_Just breathe…_ he thought to himself, _Forget about him. Just breathe…_

He had no idea how long it had taken, but everything was starting to come back into focus. His heart was still racing and his hands still trembling, but he could breathe properly again and his senses seemed to dull back down to normal from whatever ridiculous height they had reached.

Izaya lifted his gaze to glare at Shizuo who was now reading something on his phone with a look of concern on his face. When he flicked his eyes up and met Izaya’s glare, he flipped his phone shut and hastily put it in his pocket.

“Can I uhh…” he began, rubbing the back of his neck and sounding hesitant, “Can I do anything to help? Can I get you anything?”

Realizing Shizuo must have been searching his symptoms on his phone made Izaya’s glare darken.

Izaya didn’t even honor Shizuo’s question with a response. Instead, he forced himself to his feet and dragged himself to the bathroom where he locked the door behind him.

Splashing his face with cool water tended to help in these situations. After drying his face and wiping the back of his neck with a towel, Izaya took a few more deep breaths.

Shizuo seemed to be telling the truth when he said he wasn’t here to fight. Otherwise he could have easily taken advantage of his moment of weakness. And even going as far as to try and offer help? What was he thinking?

Izaya stepped out of the bathroom to find Shizuo standing in the same spot he’d left him. His hands were in his pockets and he still had a concerned look on his face.

Really, what was with that look?

“Sit,” Izaya said, gesturing to the couch. Shizuo did so obediently and Izaya followed suit on the opposite end of the couch. He practically fell into it, taking a moment to try and relax a bit. Unfortunately, that was what his tea had been for, but now it was on the floor and the broken pieces of his cup lay on the coffee table.

“You okay?” Shizuo asked.

“I’m fine,” Izaya replied grumpily, “Just tell me what the hell you want and get out.”

“Right…” Shizuo began looking like he was beginning to remember he and Izaya were supposed to be enemies. “It’s just that… I was thinking a lot…”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Izaya mumbled. Shizuo shot him a glare that told him he probably should keep his mouth shut for now.

“I was thinking a lot and I decided to hear you out on this whole bodyguard thing.”

“I told you I changed my mind.” Izaya said darkly, reminded of their last conversation over the phone.

“Yeah I know,” Shizuo said, “But I thought about it and well… Don’t get me wrong, I still hate you, but I figured if you’re asking me for help then whoever you made an enemy of is probably pretty bad if you can’t do it alone, right?”

Izaya looked away at that statement, staring at the floor while Shizuo continued.

“So I figure this person probably poses a threat to innocent people as well. That’s why I came here.”

“Couldn’t it have waited until morning, at least?” Izaya asked, yawning into his hand. He was exhausted.

“Maybe…” Shizuo said with a nod, “But it was bothering me for a while so I just decided to come over now.”

“You could have called,” Izaya pointed out.

“Would you have answered?”

Izaya considered this for a moment. “No, probably not,” he said with a grin.

Shizuo responded with smile that suggested he knew that would be his answer.

“So who is this person?”

“You don’t need to know that. Just knock out anyone who tries to hurt me. That’s what a bodyguard is supposed to do.”

Shizuo looked disappointed, Izaya noted.

“And now that I think about it... to start,” Izaya continued, “For what you did to my door, you have to stand guard here until I can get someone here to fix it.”

“What?!” Shizuo started, but then paused when he remembered what he had done. Just because the door looked like it was back in place didn’t mean it was able to lock properly. “Fine,” he grumbled, “How long is that going to take?”

“Hopefully not long,” Izaya replied, already searching through his phone.

Shizuo waited, listening in while Izaya contacted the building’s maintenance staff. It didn’t take long for someone to agree to come immediately when Izaya mentioned the ridiculous amount he was willing to pay for promt service.

“There,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket, “They will be here in less than an hour.”

A drawn out awkward silence hung in the air while the two enemies stared off in opposite directions lost in their own thoughts. Shizuo wondering if he had made a mistake coming tonight, and Izaya still fuming over the broken door and considering his options for payback.

Five minutes later a sound broke the silence.

It was Shizuo’s stomach.

Shizuo cleared his throat, trying not to let embarrassment show in his voice. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “I didn’t eat dinner…”

“Me either,” Izaya replied, still staring in the opposite direction, “... or lunch… or… breakfast…” he trailed off, not sure why he even bothered to speak at all.

“Seriously?” Shizuo asked, sliding forward on the couch, “You have an eating disorder or some shit?”

“That was very delicately asked, Shizu-chan,” Izaya teased, “But no, I just wasn’t hungry.”

“But you have to eat,” Shizuo pointed out, “If you don’t you could pass out or something.”

Izaya gave no response.

With a spark of determination, Shizuo stood from the couch and briskly walked into the kitchen.

“What are you doing…?” Izaya asked, following Shizuo to the kitchen.

“I’m gonna get you something to eat,” Shizuo said as if it were completely obvious. However he was stopped rather quickly when he opened the refrigerator to find it almost completely empty. All there was to be found was some leftover rice and miso soup.

Shizuo let out a sigh. “What the hell is this, flea?”

“That would be leftovers from yesterday.”

Slamming the fridge door shut with a little more force than necessary, Shizuo clenched his fists. “You know what I mean, you ass. Why don’t you have any food?”

Izaya seemed to shrink back at the question, looking at the floor rather than at Shizuo when he spoke.

“I haven’t gone shopping yet…” he said quietly.

“Why not?” Shizuo asked, opening up the cupboards to find very little in them as well.

When Izaya was once again left silent, the pieces fell together in Shizuo’s mind.

_He hasn’t gone shopping because he’s too afraid to leave the apartment by himself..._  

Shizuo didn’t dare speak this realization out loud. Instead he headed towards the door, took Izaya’s coat from the rack and threw it back at him. Izaya caught it and stared at Shizuo with a questioning look while the blond began slipping his shoes on.

“C’mon,” he said, “let’s just grab dinner from that convenience store across the street. We’ll be back before the people get here to fix the door.”

Izaya looked uneasy for a few seconds but soon began to reluctantly pull his coat over his shoulders--which he did so carefully as Shizuo noted out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t sure but he thought he saw Izaya wince.

“You okay…?”

“Hm?” Izaya quickly brought his attention back to Shizuo as he began slipping his own shoes on. “It’s nothing I guess I just hurt myself when I tripped earlier. It’s fine, really.”

For the second time in a few minutes pieces quickly fell into place inside Shizuo’s head. This time he forgot to hold back on speaking his thoughts.

“You’re... not completely healed yet, are you?” he said quietly, more as a statement than a question.

Izaya glared in response, looking Shizuo directly in the eye when he spoke. “My bones aren’t made of steel like yours, Shizu-chan. Why do you think I needed a bodyguard in the first place?”

Izaya only broke eye contact once he felt he had thoroughly made Shizuo feel guilty for even bringing up the subject.

They didn’t speak the whole way to the convenience store.

They didn’t speak when they returned with their food.

Nor did they speak while they ate.

It was the knocking of the repair man at the door that broke the silence this time, and Shizuo didn’t miss how the knock seemed to startle Izaya.

The door was fixed quickly, and Izaya paid the repairman what he promised once he had checked the lock for himself.

He then quickly sent the repairman on his way and turned to Shizuo to do the same.

“Leave,” he said, “I’m tired and I want you out now.”

Shizuo didn’t argue as he once again slipped on his shoes and walked out the door.

However he didn’t walk away until he heard the click of the lock and the thud of the bookshelf being replaced against the door.

…~-~...

After sweeping the apartment to make sure Jiro hadn’t slipped in and hidden somewhere while they were gone, Izaya finally collapsed into his bed.

Despite being so utterly exhausted, Izaya still found it difficult to get to sleep. Thoughts and memories swirled around in his head giving him a headache.

He kept thinking about how many times he showed weakness in front of Shizuo tonight. He tried to tell himself it was because he was tired but he knew it was likely to happen again. Izaya knew he was an absolute mess right now and allowing Shizuo to be his bodyguard was like giving him a front row seat to the show.

“What have I gotten myself into…?” he wondered aloud.

An hour later, Izaya finally drifted off into another restless sleep, haunted by the nightmare of his past.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter begins the story I'm sure you've been waiting to read...


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to take a moment to say thank you to everyone who has left comments on this fic. While I don't get the chance to respond to all of you, know that I read each one and they make me smile every time. So thank you again for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

…~Seven Years Ago~…

Excitement rushed through Izaya’s veins. Or was it that he was apprehensive? No, Orihara Izaya doesn’t get nervous. He was always sure to have the upper hand. He had just recently turned 18 and had instantly taken the plunge into the dark underbelly of Ikebukuro. Fresh out of high school, Izaya knew he wouldn’t be taken seriously, which is why he would have to work hard to prove himself worthy of the title “Information Broker, Orihara Izaya”. However, considering he was already gaining worth in the eyes of the Awakusu-kai, he didn’t feel that too much hard work would be necessary on his part. This came naturally to him after all. He knew how to navigate his slowly building information network to find personal information on anyone in the city. He was on his way to the top and nothing—not even Heiwajima Shizuo—was going to take him down.

He couldn’t keep from grinning as he stepped out of his small apartment in Ikebukuro. His career was finally kicking off and he had a busy day ahead of him. Three clients, all with vastly different backgrounds had requested his services. His plan was to meet with them, get the extra information he needed in person, and head home for a cup of tea.

The afternoon was particularly uneventful. Izaya made his way to the first meeting with a woman in her late 30’s. Sato Momoko was her name. Her dark eyes gave him a skeptical look as he sat down across from her in the restaurant where she had chosen to meet with him. Izaya was used to it by now. He knew his appearance made him seem much less experienced that he was—really he looked more like 15 years old rather than 18—but sometimes he could use that to his advantage. However, most of the time the looks he received grated on his nerves. She ordered some fancy burger while Izaya only ordered a cup of coffee.

“So about my husband,” she began, “Do you really think you can find him?”

Ah, yes. She was already doubting his abilities. Momoko was a rather successful business woman whose husband had mysteriously gone missing along with a good chunk of Momoko’s jewelry and money from their shared bank account.

“Sato-san, finding people is my specialty,” Izaya responded. It was somewhat of a lie. His specialty was digging up information, but finding people came extremely easy to him. Especially people who had no idea what they were doing and ordered plane tickets under their real name.

“He is on his way to London as we speak,” Izaya continued, “I will pinpoint his exact location when he arrives.”

Within an hour Izaya had everything he needed to locate Momoko’s husband and all of the stolen property as well. He looked forward to such an easy assignment. He could get it done quickly and end his evening as planned.

The next meeting place was rather strange. Almost the definition of “back alley transaction”—rather in this case it was behind a pizza delivery shop. Izaya truly enjoyed finding out what his clients deemed as appropriate meeting places. It was remarkable what they could come up with.

“You’re the informant? You’re just a kid!”

Izaya resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

This man had a more interesting situation in Izaya’s opinion. He was jealous because a co-worker had gotten the promotion he wanted and now he was looking for anything he could use to get said co-worker fired so he could take the promotion he felt was rightfully his. People like this are the reason Izaya began working as an informant. He got to see the ugly side of these otherwise disgustingly ordinary people.

“If you don’t want my help then I’ll just leave,” Izaya said, spinning on his heels and taking a few steps.

“Wait—“

A wide grin spread across Izaya’s face which he quickly replaced with a friendly smile as he spun back around.

“You’ve made the right choice,” he said.

…~-~…

Making a stop at Russia Sushi for dinner, Izaya was beginning to get tired and was ready to get the final meeting over with. The final client went by the name of Kimura Jiro and requested that all information be dealt in person. This wasn’t an unusual request for a client to make considering phone calls can be monitored and emails hacked; however, his choice of location didn’t seem ideal to Izaya.

The location Jiro had chosen was an old bar. Izaya had to resist the urge to cringe when the strong smell of cigarettes infiltrated his senses. He could almost taste it which made him want to shudder. He hoped this meeting would be over with quickly. Stepping further into the bar, Izaya took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the low light and dark wood furniture combination.

The bartender—an older gentleman—looked up from serving the only other two in the bar. He acknowledged Izaya with a glance and nodded towards the back of the bar. A small smile crept on his face as he spoke. “If you’re looking for Kimura he’s in the back.”

Apparently the bartender knew his client. That smile was rather unsettling though. Izaya decided to raise his guard as he made his way to the back, almost too aware of the bartender’s eyes following him as he went.

Izaya wasn’t sure what he expected when he opened the door to the back room. It looked like a small office space with a table in the center, a man sitting in a chair facing the door. There was another door behind him, which considering the size of the building, Izaya assumed was an exit to the outside.

“Ah, Nakura-san! I’m glad you could meet me today.”

Izaya spent a moment to take in Jiro’s appearance and demeanor. From what he was able to find, Kimura Jiro was 38 years old, however the fine lines in his face accentuated by the low lighting made him look older. He was fairly tall with a thin face with a defined jaw and large forehead which looked larger because of the receding hairline of dark brown hair. His eyes were narrow and cold, almost reminding Izaya of a certain Awakusu-kai executive.

However that is where similarities ended. Shiki gave off an air of power and confidence. This man had confidence, but lacked the intimidation factor. His posture gave the impression that he was anxious or introverted with his arms held close to his body, legs crossed, and shoulders tense.

Jiro gestured for Izaya to sit in the chair on the opposite side of the table. As he moved into the chair, he took notice of the food and drinks already prepared on the table. While this man didn’t seem much of a threat, Izaya decided to play it safe and not touch what was offered.

“Care for a drink or something to eat?” Jiro asked, sipping from his own glass.

“No, thanks,” Izaya replied, “I don’t drink and I just had dinner. But please, tell me why you’ve requested my services. I’m curious what you could want since you didn’t give me any details via email.”

“Ah, yes,” Jiro began, “I am gathering information on a man by the name of Nakamura Hiro.”

Izaya recognized the name instantly. Nakamura Hiro was a rather influential member of a yakuza group which rivaled the Awakusu-kai.

“You should know, Kimura-san, that I am a neutral party. I’m afraid I cannot sell information that would put me in a dangerous position such as this without reason.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot reveal why I need this information, Nakura-san,” Jiro said, his arms uncrossing and falling into his lap. Izaya’s guard heightened when he lost sight of Jiro’s hands. Something felt wrong.

“However,” Jiro continued, “I don’t believe you are telling me the truth about being a neutral party. I happen to know that you have been in close contact with the Awakusu-kai lately.”

“And where did you hear this?” Izaya asked, curiosity piqued. He could feel a shift in Jiro’s demeanor as he poured himself another drink.

“Once again, I am afraid I cannot reveal my sources. However I am sure we can still work out a deal. Please, have a drink. It’s on me. I know you’re only 18, but you won’t be seen back here. Besides, I know the owner.”

It has to be drugged, Izaya thought to himself. He didn’t see Jiro pour the drink after all.

“Again, I have to decline, Kimura-sa—“

Izaya was cut off when a flash of metal caught his eye and suddenly he was looking down the barrel of a gun aimed right between his eyes.

“I insist,” Jiro said with a light smile.

Izaya swallowed. In a matter of seconds everything about the man before him had changed. His stance opened up and his shoulders relaxed. He held the gun with a very steady hand and his eyes had become intensely cold despite the smile on his face. The sudden change threw Izaya off and sent his mind into confusion. What had he missed? How could he have misjudged this man so badly?

“Kimura-san,” Izaya began but was interrupted.

“There is nothing you can say to get yourself out of this situation. Tell me, What were you able to find about me when you did a background check?”

Izaya blinked and responded with a voice dripping in malice, “Kimura Jiro. Age: 38. Realestate agent.”

Jiro smiled. “And how do you know that is really my name? Or my occupation?”

“I admit, I was suspicious about that,” Izaya stated.

“Orihara Izaya. Age: 18. Up and coming information broker fresh out of Rajin high school. Claims to love all of humanity. Also claims to be a neutral party, yet has strong ties with Shiki Haruya of the Awakusu-kai. You have provided information to benefit the Awakusu-kai on many occasions. Your parents are currently working overseas in America, and your younger sisters, Mairu and Kururi are both 11 years old being taken care of by your grandparents.”

“Impressive,” Izaya said dryly.

“Yes, now, are you going to drink, or am I going to kill you?”

Izaya hesitated. With how quickly this man was able to change his personality, he didn’t doubt the seriousness of the threat of being shot between the eyes. However what would happen if he complied with Jiro’s demands?

It was surely better than his life being cut short. Also, in his position, he wasn’t sure he could move fast enough to disarm Jiro from across the table with only his flick blade.

Slowly, Izaya reached forward to grasp the drink and put it to his lips. The click of the gun being cocked prompted Izaya to take the first sip of the bitter drink.

“All of it.” Jiro said.

With a steady hand, eyes locked with Jiro’s, Izaya raised the glass to his lips once more, finishing off the drink and whatever Jiro had slipped into it before he had gotten here.

Jiro’s smirk widened and Izaya quickly realized why. Whatever was in that drink was strong. Within 30 seconds he was beginning to feel dizzy. Within 45 he had to break eye contact to hold his head in his hand. He could feel his consciousness slipping after only one minute.

One minute and 15 seconds later, Orihara Izaya was unconscious.


	9. Chapter 9

For one blissful moment, Izaya couldn't remember the situation he had gotten into. Slowly, he regained his senses, but everything still felt hazy. His head pounded as he fought through dizziness and the heaviness of his limbs. Finally he was able to open his eyes and focus his vision.

He was greeted by darkness. While he waited for his eyes to adjust, he shifted experimentally to find that his arms were tied behind his back and his legs bound together. When he lifted his head, the jingling of a chain and heaviness around his neck told him he was also wearing a collar which was secured to a chain, but it was still too dark to see where the chain was connected.

The last thing he noticed told him the most about his situation. He was completely naked.

Blinking a few times, Izaya was finally able to make out his surroundings. He was in a small room with two adjacent doors across from him. Other than himself, the only items in the room were a bed which he was currently lying on, and a dresser on the opposite end of the room. To the left of the dresser, something caught his eye. There was a patch of wall that was a different color than the rest. After a few moments of staring (his vision was still fluctuating making it harder to focus on distant objects) he could see that it was a plank of wood nailed into the wall. He guessed it was covering up a window. If that was the case, he could assume he was in a basement considering how close to the "window" was to the ceiling.

Carefully, Izaya shifted his body so that he was sitting up, leaning against the wall behind him for support. The vertigo was beginning to fade, allowing him to concentrate on his situation.

It didn't take a genius to realize what was planned for him. The fact that he was naked told him all he needed to know. This guy was clearly some kind of pervert.

Izaya tested the ropes on his wrists and ankles. He could probably untie his ankles from behind his back, but it could take a while since he wouldn't be able to see the knots while untying them. Even then, he still had the problem of his wrists and the metal collar locked around his neck. Following the chain, Izaya saw that it was fairly long, wrapping around a few times and dragging on the floor. It was connected to an iron loop embedded into the wall. He shuffled closer to the wall to get a better look. From what he could see, the loop was set into a concrete brick and secured with concrete into the wall.

Turning around, Izaya grabbed the chain as close to the wall as he could reach and pulled.

Nothing.

He put all of his weight into one more tug, but he lost his balance and toppled off of the bed and onto the cold, concrete floor.

It was then that he heard a small click from one of the two doors. The door on the left slowly opened and in stepped none other than Kimura Jiro himself. Jiro's hand felt the wall next to the door and with a small flick, an overhead light came to life, forcing Izaya's sensitive eyes shut. Peaking open one eye he watched as Jiro fully emerged into the room, closing the door and locking it with a key behind him. Izaya watched carefully as he put the key into his right coat pocket. Jiro did not acknowledge Izaya as he walked over to the dresser across the room and placed a small bag on top. Izaya could only see the man's back as he fiddled with something in the bag, his movement slow. Izaya swallowed despite his dry mouth when Jiro lifted a small bottle and a syringe into the light, slowly filling the syringe with liquid.

"What are you doing on the floor, Orihara?" he questioned with a grin, eyes still focused on the syringe in his hands.

"I wonder," Izaya said, finding it hard not to grin back out of reflex, "I must have rolled over too far in my sleep."

A dry laugh erupted from Jiro as he set the bottle back on the dresser, spinning around with the syringe in his hand. "I love your sense of humor," he said darkly.

Jiro held the back end of the syringe in his teeth as he slowly removed his jacket and set it on top of the dresser with his bag. He then rolled up his sleeves carefully, ignoring Izaya's glare from his place on the floor.

Taking the syringe back into his hand, Jiro smiled warmly. "Before we get started, I am going to give this to you," he said, gesturing to the syringe, "It's just a low dose for now, since I want you able to focus while I go over the rules."

"Rules?" Izaya repeated with a chuckle, "What kind of game do you want to play, Kimura-san?"

"Oh, this is no game, Orihara," Jiro said sweetly as if speaking to a child, "Although I know how much you love games. But no, you see, in a game, both players have the opportunity to win. You, Orihara, do not have a chance of winning, so how could I, in good conscience, call this a game?"

Izaya's glare darkened. "'Good conscience' says the man who is holding someone against their will," he muttered.

"You see, Orihara, we have to work on that attitude of yours," Jiro's smile widened as he climbed on top of Izaya, pinning him to the ground. His forearm pressed across Izaya's neck, just under his chin preventing his head from moving to bite his captor.

He struggled for a moment, trying to push the larger man off of him, but he was still weak from whatever Jiro had given him in his drink earlier. Izaya really didn't want to find out what was in that syringe, but it seemed he had no choice in the matter.

The needle poked into his left arm and he was too weak to struggle. "Dare I ask what was in that?" Izaya spat, his heart racing when it hit him that it could have been anything in that bottle--even something potentially deadly.

"No worries, no worries," Jiro said as he climbed off of Izaya to dispose of the needle in his bag, "It's just a little something to help you... relax."

Izaya didn't like the sound of that. Nor did he like the way Jiro simply stood a couple meters away, looking at the watch on his wrist.

Keeping his breathing calm, Izaya focused on his body for a moment, trying to note any changes. Within 10 seconds Izaya wished he had the ability to kill with a glare. He wished this because his body was rapidly growing weak. His limbs were paralyzed and a heavy feeling began to overwhelm him. Yet despite this, his thoughts remained mostly unclouded aside from a drowsy feeling.

Jiro approached again when Izaya's eyes drooped slightly and his squirming came to a stop.

Unable to move, Izaya was picked up off of the floor and placed back on the bed. Jiro stood towering over him, eyes wandering up and down his naked form. He wanted to curl up or to turn away, however the strange drug pumping through his system only allowed him to watch--his body refusing to respond.

Cold brown eyes met Izaya's. He couldn't help but feel those eyes were seeing straight through his mask of confidence. He didn't have control of this situation. He didn't even have control of his own body.

"Now that I have your full attention, let me explain the rules."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been feeling really depressed lately... And feeling overworked by two jobs... I will try to keep updates going but it's getting harder to find time to write. The only reason these chapters are able go to up is because they are already written from ages ago. I won't abandon the story though. Once I start posting a story I see it through to the end. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and commenting!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still haven't written anything in like 2 weeks... I only have 2 more chapters written after this and then nothing. I will try to get something done but I am having a really hard time writing anything halfway decent. 
> 
> I am gonna be participating in the renaishizaya event on tumblr which is basically just a solid month of fluff fics and art related to shizaya, so maybe taking a break to write and draw fluff will help me get back into writing this fic. (I won't leave this fic for the whole month though! I plan to try and do both since the fluff will just be one-shots This fic is my main priority). 
> 
> If you want to you can follow me on tumblr. I have my main blog, miyukiwynter, and my side blog for fanfic, miyukifanfic (which I almost never update oops). I check my tumblr a lot throughout the day so feel free to message me about whatever.

"Now that I have your full attention, let me explain the rules."

Izaya stared up at Jiro, anger beginning to spread through his veins. He hated this man. And he was sure that the next words he was about to hear would solidify that hatred.

Once again, Izaya tried to move his body to no avail. He closed his eyes to concentrate on getting even just a little movement only to be forced to pay attention when a hand roughly grabbed his jaw and angled his face upwards again.

"I guess a good place to start would be to look at me when I am talking to you," Jiro said forcefully, his grip on Izaya's jaw tightening, "Really, Orihara, you have such bad manners."

Izaya let out a sound that could only be described as a growl. The grip on his jaw combined with the drug coursing through him making speaking a difficult task.

"The rest of the rules are very simple. Understand that you are now my property, Orihara. And as my property you are to do anything and everything I tell you to do without question. Defy me, and you will be punished severely. Understood?"

Auburn eyes narrowed in response. Yes. He hated this man.

"In addition," Jiro continued, tightening his grip on Izaya's jaw until Izaya was sure he would be left with bruises, "You must call me 'Master' at all times. Failing to do so will also end with you being punished. You are mine now. Nothing more than a slave for me to use as I please. Now answer me, Orihara. Do you understand your position?"

Jiro shoved Izaya backwards, releasing his grip on his jaw as he waited for the informant to answer.

"I..." Izaya struggled through the drug induced paralysis to form his response.

"I... am not... your property."

Their eyes locked. Izaya’s glare darkened while Jiro’s expression only seemed to brighten before a fist knocked their gazes apart and left a sharp pain on Izaya’s cheek.

“I had a feeling you’d say something along those lines,” Jiro said, hand returning to his side, “but you no longer have a choice in the matter. You are my property now.”

Despite his situation, a smile appeared on Izaya’s face and a chuckle escaped past his lips. “Humans… are so funny…” he began, hating how difficult it was becoming to string words together, “I love all of them, however I am quickly finding myself hating you, Kimura-san.”

The air left his lungs when Jiro’s fist collided with his chest. A cough escaped him as he instinctively curled into himself while attempting to catch his breath.

“You are meant to call me ‘Master’ now, remember? Don’t forget too soon Orihara, or else I’ll make sure you never slip up again.”

A tense silence fell between the two for a few moments. Izaya then noted precisely how silent it was. For an instant he wondered where this place could be located for it to be so quiet… or how thick the walls might be for that matter. He was torn from his thoughts when Jiro finally moved again.

Izaya attempted to respond by moving away, forgetting for just a moment that he was unable to move. It was then that Jiro pulled roughly at Izaya’s legs, forcing him out of his slightly curled position. With one hand hooked under his legs and another his arms, Jiro tossed Izaya back onto the bed with a surprising amount of strength.

Izaya could only passively allow himself to be moved when Jiro flipped him onto his stomach--which he couldn’t help but notice left his dick in a rather uncomfortable position.

He could feel Jiro pull at his ankles to straighten his position on the bed. It was at this time that Izaya truly realized the purpose of the drug he had been given. Rather than being pulled into unconsciousness like whatever had been in his drink earlier, this drug only made his muscles weak and unable to move properly. He was still decently alert, though a little foggy, but he could feel every touch with his senses on high alert as a result of his paralysis.

Rough hands hooked under his hips and jerked his body back, lifting him so that he was positioned on his knees, face pressed into the bed.

He wasn’t naive. He knew what was coming next and he did his best to prepare for what was sure to be a painful experience. He could handle the humiliation for the time being until he found a way to escape.

Izaya was no virgin, but he wasn’t necessarily practiced either. He had only had a couple sexual encounters in the past and only one of those times did he bottom.

There was very little preparation. Izaya ventured a guess that Jiro had intentionally left him underprepared to cause more pain. Teeth clenched tightly as that cock forced itself inside, taking Izaya for only his own selfish pleasure while Izaya was left wincing at the pain and holding back a scream.

By the time it was over, Izaya was sure he was bleeding. He felt different now that Jiro had finished with him.

He felt filthy.

Violated.

Weak.

How could he have let this happen?

Izaya closed his eyes and waited silently for the signs that Jiro was preparing to leave him. Pants zipped shut followed by the jingling of a belt. He should be leaving any moment now…

Silence. And then…

CRACK!

A small yelp slipped out of Izaya at the unexpected pain on his right thigh. He snapped his gaze to the source of the stinging pain in Jiro’s hand.

“It’s real leather, you know?” he said motioning to the belt in his hands, “Oh! You didn’t think I was actually done for tonight, did you? Oh no, sweetie, we are just beginning! Consider this phase one of your obedience training.”

CRACK!

This time he was struck on his ass. Izaya hissed in pain, unable to remain quiet. The man wasn’t holding back even an ounce and Izaya had to admit that belt really hurt.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

“Ask me to stop,” Jiro goaded, “Ask me properly, and it will stop.”

Another glare was Izaya’s only response. He knew Jiro was trying to get him to call him “master”, but Izaya wouldn’t give in. If he could hold up long enough, maybe Jiro would give up for the night and he’d have time to find a plan of escape.

…~-~...

Bruises were forming all up and down his pale skin. He could see the splotches of purple beginning to show underneath the red, irritated skin. He was bleeding in a few spots where the belt had struck at a particular angle. Jiro had abandoned the belt a short while ago in favor of using his fists.

The pain was growing harder to bear. It was beginning to take much more effort to resist saying the words he knew would end the pain. In all his life, Izaya had never taken a beating quite like this. Even fighting with Shizuo hadn’t left him with this much damage. There was no way of knowing how long it had been so far. It felt like hours, yet Jiro was still going, albeit gradually getting slower.

Just a little longer now… I just have to hold out a little longer until he tires out…

There was a taste of iron in his mouth as he swallowed. His lip was bleeding from a particularly hard punch which Izaya was grateful hadn’t knocked out any teeth. He was about to take a deep breath in an attempt to calm the shaking in his limbs; however, just before he could draw in a breath, he collar around his neck was yanked harshly by the chain, pulling Izaya along with it. It pressed painfully against his trachea while Jiro continued to pull upwards on the chain.

A feeling of panic suddenly grew inside him when he realized he couldn’t breathe. His body was still too weak to hold himself up, meaning the majority of his weight was now held by that collar. He tried to lift his hands to grab at the collar to get even a small amount of leverage so he could breathe, but he couldn’t.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” Jiro taunted, “Go on, try to fight back. Better hurry, you’re looking a bit pale already.”

He was shaking violently now. He couldn’t stop. He tried to cough, but it only made the sensation worse. Was he going to die like this? Because of his pride making him refuse to speak?

Black spots invaded his vision and the room began to spin. He was going to die. This was it. His heart raced despite the lack of oxygen. His lungs felt as if they were contracting painfully, desperately trying to pull air in. It hurt and he couldn’t even speak anymore to save himself.

No, please… Not like this… Izaya thought as his vision went completely back.  

His head smashed against the hard mattress. The pressure suddenly released its crushing hold on his throat.

Through violent coughs his lungs took in deep ragged breaths. His heart was still racing and his body shaking tremendously, but he could breathe and see again.

Izaya opened his mouth to speak when all too soon it happened again. Jiro pinned him against the wall this time, holding the chain above his head, cutting off his air once more.

“Sorry,” that voice that was beginning to make Izaya sick spoke again, “my arm got a little tired, but don’t worry, I have another. I can do this all night if we have to.”

When he was released again, Izaya tried to speak quickly.

“Stop!” he coughed, “Plea--!”

He was cut off again.

“I’m sorry, were you trying to speak to me? I didn’t quite catch that!”

The chain slackened again.

“No more--!!” he choked out before the chain was tightened again.

“Who are you speaking to?” Jiro asked with a wild grin.

Izaya cringed. He only had time for one word and he knew what that word was meant to be.

The chain slackened yet again.

“MASTER!!” Izaya yelled. There was a pause. No choking sensation. Tear-filled Auburn eyes lifted.

“Yes? Do you have something to say, my pet?”

“P-please. No more. M-master…” he whimpered.

“I think you’re right,” Jiro said, patting Izaya’s head and dropping the chain, “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

The coughing continued while Jiro gathered his things. By the time Izaya finally caught his breath, Jiro was opening the door.

“See you soon, pet,” he said, closing the door behind him and locking it with a soft click.

Izaya stared at the door. There was a bad taste in his mouth that didn’t have anything to do with his bleeding lip.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

…~Week One~...

 

The next few days were much like the first. Izaya remained chained to the wall at all times with the collar around his neck. However that wasn’t all. His “master” also left this limbs tied to the bed, leaving him unable to move freely even after the effects of the drug had worn off. He was told that if he continued to follow demands, he would eventually be rewarded with the removal of the ropes.

It left Izaya feeling rather claustrophobic, the effect amplified by the small, cold, dark room. The only time Izaya saw light was when Jiro entered the room and turned the light on. He quickly began to prefer the dark because of what the light meant. It meant he was about to be violated again. If he resisted, he would be beaten, or left alone in a filthy mess. If he cooperated and followed all instructions he would be rewarded with food (if one could call that slop “food”), water, and if he was lucky, Jiro would unlock his collar with the key in his pocket and Izaya would get a bath. A bath which involved his arms and legs being tied while his “master” washed him, but it was something. It was degrading, but the drug pumping through his veins made it easier to sleep through that part.

Every time his master showed up they went through the same routine. The lights would come on, Jiro would give him a syringe full of that dreadful drug, then he would be used for his master’s pleasure however the man saw fit. He would then be punished or rewarded depending on his behavior, and then he’d be alone once more, tied to the bed in the dark. Occasionally, Jiro’s visits were brief and only consisted of giving Izaya water or food and bringing him over to the bathroom. However Izaya could never be sure what the nature of each visit was until it started.

It hadn’t taken long for him to lose track of time. When he slept, there was no way to tell how long, and Jiro seemed to show up at varying intervals. Izaya was sure this was being done on purpose in order to further disorient him.

Izaya shivered in the dark as he reflected on his situation. Jiro had visited him 10 times so far. Izaya had only followed instructions twice when the hunger pains became too much. Jiro, however, didn’t seem to be put off by his defiance. He would deliver punishment as needed with no sign of anger or frustration. In fact, he often smiled when Izaya refused to follow orders.

A small cough broke the silence in the room. Blood was was still coming from another cut on his lip where he had been hit just a few minutes ago--punishment for not opening his mouth--and his chest hurt from being kicked--a consequence for gagging on his master’s cum.

Feeling strangely hopeless, Izaya wanted desperately to curl up into a ball; however, his arms were still tied to the bed frame above his head. For the first time in his life, Orihara Izaya was completely at a loss on what to do. Nothing fazed Jiro. No taunts, no threats, no tricks. Nothing. With his body rendered useless as a tool for escape, words were his only hope--and they had failed him.

He wanted out. If he couldn’t escape soon he would surely go mad. Constantly in the dark, constantly alone with only his thoughts. The only contact he had with another human being was in the form of pain and humiliation.

Izaya jumped when he heard the door open. Surely he wasn’t back already…? It had only been a few minutes! The light flickered on to reveal Jiro in the doorway, holding an ominous looking bag.

“You know,” he began, “I couldn’t help but notice you’ve reacted to this differently than most people would,”

Izaya remained silent, glaring at the man standing before him.

“You haven’t yet asked me why I’m doing this, or why am I doing this to you specifically.”

This time Izaya spoke, though his voice was much quieter than it had been in the past. “I’ve made a lot of enemies already,” he said, “I haven’t asked because I assume either I’ve indirectly done something to you to piss you off, or you’re just a pervert and I happened to be your type,” he paused for a moment, considering the options, “Or both.”

Jiro set the bag down by the door and took a few steps closer. “Well, you’re partly right. But only on the surface level. Yes, I was specifically targeting you because of something you’ve done. Actually because of everything that you’ve done. I wanted to study you, Izaya. It’s quite interesting how you’ve gotten to be so successful as an informant so quickly. I spoke to some of your past clients and many of them seemed to feel a certain fear when I mentioned your name. At least, the clients of yours who were average citizens. Those Awakusu people didn’t seem in the least bit afraid, though they don’t seem to trust you.

“It’s your confidence I think that gets to people. It makes you seem as if you know what you are doing even when you don’t. A boy like you in the underground could be very dangerous. The thought of obtaining something so potentially dangerous excited me.

“When it comes down to it, you're here because you're a brat who has gotten too confident. And just like you, I love to see people like that taken down. Wouldn't you agree that it's entertaining to watch someone break?"

“Who says you can break me?” Izaya spat.

“Oh I will make sure you do,” Jiro replied.

“What, with behavior modification? Operant conditioning? I’ve studied this stuff. I know what you’re up to with all of these ‘rewards’ and ‘punishments’. It’s not going to work.”

Jiro smiled. “Just because you’ve studied it doesn’t mean you’re immune to it.”

“Influencing a person’s behavior doesn’t change who they are,”

“I never said I wanted to change you, Izaya,” Jiro continued, smile growing wider, “Just to break you. If you don’t want the reward and punishment system anymore, that’s fine. I can always just hurt you for the sake of hurting you without any rewards. It’s rather fun, actually.”

Muscles tightened in Izaya’s shoulders when a feeling of intense rage blossomed in his chest. However he did not speak.

“That’s what I thought.”

There was a tense silence for the next 10 seconds while Jiro bent down to dig through the bag he had brought with him. When his hands emerged again, he was holding an uncomfortably large plug along with a vial of something Izaya could not see.

In all honesty, Izaya was far too exhausted to care what his master had planned for him next. He didn’t bother fighting. Instead he lazily watched while Jiro filled a syringe with the liquid inside of the vial from the bag. In this moment, there was no point in trying to struggle. His limbs still felt too weak to move and even if he did, all he would accomplish is getting that needle stuck painfully into him from a weird angle.

So instead, Izaya closed his eyes and tried to ignore the feeling of a foreign substance being injected into his arm.

“Good boy,” Jiro whispered, giving Izaya a pat on the head.

Izaya winced when the plug was pushed inside. He was still very sore and the feeling of something large stretching him open again was extremely unpleasant.

When Jiro stood back to admire his work, Izaya shifted uncomfortably. The design of the plug made it difficult, if not impossible, to push out on his own. He lifted his gaze to see if he could read Jiro’s actions but the man had a way of keeping his intentions a mystery.

“The drug I gave you is an aphrodisiac,” he began. Izaya’s stomach felt as if it dropped at those words. “It should start taking effect in a few minutes. I’ve been such a selfish master, I decided I should let you have a little fun too. After all, it’s unhealthy for a boy your age to go too long without a little release.”

Izaya could only stare in horror as Jiro turned his back and left the room, shutting off the light and closing the door behind him.

The next few hours were torture. Still tied down, Izaya had no way to easily relieve the growing sensation of need. His body began to get hot and no matter what he did, he couldn’t make his erection go down. When it got to be too much to bear, he began shifting his hips in a desperate attempt to get himself off via the plug’s pressure against his prostate. Soft groans of frustration filled the room while he attempted to complete this humiliating act.

In the end, it wasn’t enough. He had cum once and it hurt. There was no pleasure in it. And it still wasn’t enough to make his hard on go away. His cock began to hurt from being hard for so long with no satisfying release. He gave up his embarrassing hip movements as he simply did the best he could to wait out the effects of the drug.

The sheets beneath him were soaked with sweat by the time he finally began to feel himself cool down. The pain lessened over time, and by the time it was finally gone, Izaya had passed out.

He woke to the feeling of being dunked into cool water. Jiro was standing over him, reaching for the soap while Izaya lay in the tub, too exhausted to move.

“I was surprised to see how little you had cum,” he said, “I guess next time I’ll have to leave you with something more, hmm?”

“N-no…” Izaya pleaded in a whisper, his eyes too heavy to keep open.

“Ah, don’t sleep just yet!”

Izaya felt a cup pressed to his lips and the moment the cool water touched them he began to gulp down the water given to him to relieve his parched throat.

“Good boy,” Jiro said for what felt like the millionth time that day.

But Izaya didn’t care.

He merely closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was anywhere but here, being cleaned up by his captor.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late update, sorry! I've been trying to write a little more but it's hard. I have gotten a little more done which is great but not as much as I would like to have done... 
> 
> Thank you as always for reading and commenting!!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Even though I have said it before I want to stress this now. This chapter and the next in particular contain a lot of graphic violence. 
> 
> Between here and ff.net I am noticing a lot of people don't seem to care much for these flashback chapters. I just wanted to take a moment to say that these chapters were what I had first imagined for this fic and are 99% of the reason this fic exists. So there are a few more chapters like this and I just wanted my readers to be aware of that because I know they are graphic and probably hard for some people to read, hence why I keep posting warnings all over the place. 
> 
> But there is a reason behind my madness. In my mind, I believe it would take a lot for Izaya to break. These chapters serve to show the process. Each one includes a major event that had a strong effect on him. 
> 
> So once again I want to thank my readers. Especially if you are continuing to read this fic despite disliking the current chapters. I'm estimating about 3 more chapters of flashback, so hang in there.
> 
> I'm sorry this took so long!!!!!!!! 
> 
> I have been trying to juggle a lot of work lately but I will be quitting one of my jobs on January 1st so by then I will have evenings free to write again. I already feel relief even though I haven't actually left the job yet but it went smoothly and I might even be able to get the job back in the summer when my other job is off. 
> 
> I'm going to post two chapters this time because this one is so short. I tried just combining this chapter and the next but I didn't like the flow of it so I decided to just post two at once instead.

...~Week Two~...

 

It kept getting worse.

Just when Izaya felt like he might not be able to take it anymore, it got that much worse.

He had no idea how long he had been here. He had no idea what time it was. He couldn’t tell if he was getting enough or even too much sleep. All he knew was that he was exhausted.

Falling asleep felt strange every time. His mind kept telling him he shouldn’t be sleeping. That danger was close by and he needed to remain alert.

Nightmares began to assault him while he slept. He would startle awake, relieved that it was a dream, only to be reminded that it wasn’t when he felt the weight of the metal collar tug on his neck and the ropes around his limbs.

He had gotten used to the musky smell of this room. He had gotten used to the smell of blood and semen he was so often covered in.

He had almost gotten used to the constant pain...

However Jiro always seemed to be able to recognize this and would increase the amount of pain each time Izaya’s reactions to it lessened.

A small rumble came from Izaya’s stomach. He vaguely wondered when his master would return with food. Izaya had given up denying himself the feeling of food in his stomach. Even if the only thing he got to eat was plain rice porridge. Jiro had mentioned that he was adding a nutrient powder to the porridge, however Izaya speculated that it was also drugged considering he tended to feel unusually sleepy shortly after eating.

It was usually after a meal that he would get a bath. While he was too tired from whatever was in the food to fight back, his master  would reach into his coat pocket and pull out a key. That key unlocked his collar as the chain was too short to reach the bathtub. His limbs would remain tied, of course, but the removal of the collar—even for a short while—was nice.

Izaya sighed into the empty room. _I wonder if anyone has noticed that I’m gone… he thought. I wonder if anyone_ cares _I’m gone…_

“Meal time!” Jiro’s voice rang out and the lights flickered on. Izaya hadn’t even noticed the door open. He must be slipping if his brain was starting to omit sounds.

After he ate and drank, Izaya collapsed back on the bed, falling asleep instantly.

…~-~...

When Izaya woke again it was because Jiro was shaking him.

“You’ve been asleep for awhile, pet. Time to wake up!”

Shifting his shoulders and hips told him that he had been tied to the bed tighter than normal. Normally, he could move his limbs a little bit, but this time he was tied spread-eagle to the bed frame.

He didn’t question it out loud, choosing instead to wait and see what on earth Jiro had planned for him this time. He was digging through that bag again. Izaya hated that bag. Everything that came out of it caused him immense pain and he was sure this time would be no different.

His silent question was given a horrifying response. The first thing that had been pulled out of the bag was a long, thin iron bar. While Izaya’s imagination went wild with the terrifying possibilities, the next item proved it to be worse than he thought.

A small blow torch.

Adrenaline kicked in and all rational thought flew from his mind.

Izaya twisted and yanked hard on the ropes binding him down but they didn’t budge. Panic was flooding his thoughts. He was going to be burned. How badly he didn’t know. But the thought of hot metal against his skin was a sensation he didn’t want to know.

Blood dripped from his wrists when the ropes began to cut into him. Jiro had put a glove on his right hand and was igniting the torch. The scent of burning gas from the torch told him it was too late.

He wasn’t going to get out of this.

The tip of the iron bar was held in front of the torch. The flames licked at the metal, slowly heating it. Izaya couldn’t hear anything anymore. The sound of his own blood rushing had drowned out all sound. Jiro was speaking but he couldn’t hear what he said. His eyes widened in horror when he realized the metal was now just beginning to glow red.

 _What do I do? He won’t listen to me. I can’t stop him. If I could just get my arm free… or a leg…_ He tugged again, ignoring the pain as the ropes cut into his already bleeding skin. _I can’t do it… I can’t… Oh god he’s coming…_

Izaya prayed. _God, if you exist, please… help me… someone… anyone HELP!_

Hopping onto the bed, Jiro placed himself so he was sitting on Izaya’s legs, further immobilizing him.

“If you keep struggling like that, it will only hurt more,” he said with a wild smile.

A searing, white-hot pain filled Izaya’s senses. The tip of the hot iron pressed against the thin, sensitive skin between his hip and groin.

Izaya screamed.

The smell of burning flesh reached him making him sick. He couldn’t get away. He couldn’t make the pain stop. He could feel the hot tip of the iron drag across his hip, painfully burning the skin in its path.

When the iron lifted, Izaya took a deep shuddering breath. His eyes had closed at some point. Opening them revealed the painful truth that it wasn’t over yet. Jiro was re-heating the metal with the torch.

The metal touched down again and the pain continued.

The moment Izaya knew he was going to pass out, the weight was lifted from him. The scalding pain remained, but it seemed to be over. Jiro had begun rinsing the metal in the sink.

He knew he shouldn’t look, but he had to know what had been done to him.

Izaya’s mouth dropped open slightly as he stared at the ruined flesh on his hip. It was messily done, but he recognized the shape of the burn as writing. Despite seeing it upside down, Izaya recognized the Kanji now branded onto his body.

“Slave,” Jiro said, observing Izaya’s look of horror with one of smug pride, “Because that’s what you are now. That’s who you are. My slave.”

Nothing was said by Izaya who continued to stare at his hip, not quite believing it was still attached to his body. The pain was the only thing telling him it was really there. That the word “slave” was now branded onto his body. He felt sick.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to clean it up for you. I want it to heal nicely after all.”

Izaya remained speechless while Jiro cleaned and bandaged his hip. The rubbing alcohol stung harshly even after the bandage was applied.

“Remember the rules, Izaya? You are my property. I think that mark will get the message across well enough.”

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is about a short as the last, so together they make one!

…~Week Three~...

 

An ear-piercing crack startled Izaya out of his trance-like state.

He should have seen this coming after he bit master’s cock. But he couldn’t breathe and the taste was making him nauseous. He needed to get it out somehow!

It seemed his master wanted him to regret his recent disobedience.

Two more cracks had Izaya on edge. When was the pain coming? How unbearable would it be this time?

He didn’t dare glance behind him. Sometimes it hurt less if he didn’t see.

_CRACK_

Izaya let out a scream at the feeling of the whip tearing through his flesh. He closed his eyes tightly and bit his lip at the feeling of warmth dripping from the wound.

Before he could even begin to recover from the shock of pain, Izaya was struck again, the new wound bleeding freely along with the first.

The next two cracks were not accompanied by pain, but instead served to keep Izay alert, wondering when the next strike would come and when it would finally end.

At the third strike across his back, Izaya couldn’t handle it anymore. He knew he was bleeding but just how much he wasn’t sure. How much more blood could he lose before passing out? How did his master plan to stop the bleeding when it was over? Did he plan to stop the bleeding?

“Stop!” Izaya cried, “Please, stop!”

_CRACK_

The pain came once again and Izaya couldn’t hold back another pained scream.

“Please, master, I’ll be good,” Izaya panted.

“What was that, pet? You’ll have to speak a little louder.”

One more crack brought more pain. His voice was weak, but Izaya spoke as loud as his breathless lungs and dry throat would allow.

“I said I’ll be good! Just please stop! I can’t take any more!”

“Hmm… maybe you’re right. I think you’ve learned your lesson by now.”

There was a short silence while Izaya waited to see what would happen next. He was surprised when his wrists and ankles were untied. However, what should have surprised him more—had he realized it—was the fact that escaping or fighting back wasn’t the first thing he thought of when he was untied. Instead he remained still, waiting for instructions, not even trying to hide the small sobs that escaped his lips.

Despite his limbs being freed, Izaya didn’t move when he heard the sound of a zipper next to his ear. He didn’t resist when he felt a hand grip his hair and pull. Nor did he hesitate when he was given his order.

“Now suck it.”

…~-~...

“Get on the bed and lay on your stomach” was the next order Izaya was given once he had swallowed his master’s cum without a fuss.

“Good boy,” his master said. There was a pause while he searched through the bag he always brought with him.

Izaya turned to see what might be coming next, but he didn’t dare move more than that. What he saw was his master sterilizing a needle and thread.

“Don’t worry,” he began, “you’re not going to die. There isn’t as much blood as it probably feels like to you.

Izaya held his breath when the first stitches were made. It wasn’t so bad if he didn’t think about it too much. In fact, it was the first time he had been touched so lightly since waking up in this godforsaken place. It was a relief to feel human contact with a minimal amount of pain, even if he knew it would likely be very short lived.

He was right.

“Don’t move,” was the order, and Izaya didn’t even consider disobeying for an instant until he heard the familiar sound of a torch flaring to life and the slight smell that accompanied it. Izaya squirmed at the memory of the last time he heard that sound and smelled those fumes.

Izaya jumped when a rag was suddenly placed in front of his face.

“Bite down on this,” his master said, “It seems I got a little carried away and some parts of these cuts are too wide to be properly stitched.” His tone was light as if he was talking about repairing a piece of clothing rather than torn open skin. “Don’t worry,” he added, “I will be sure to clean it well so you don’t get any infections just like I did for your hip.”

Izaya had to admit, his master was adamant on keeping his injuries clean. Probably to avoid any life-threatening infections or illnesses that would leave his master with the choice to send him to a hospital and thus to freedom, or let him die from the infection.

Nevertheless, Izaya wasn’t sure if he could take any more extreme pain right now, but he knew he didn’t have a choice. He only hoped he would pass out soon so he didn’t have to feel it all.

Lost in his mind, Izaya was startled when the pain struck again, searing, hot, and unrelenting. He hadn’t noticed Jiro heating the metal blade—the flat side of which was now pressed against a section of his back as a cauterizing tool. Izaya whimpered, his voice and energy completely depleted leaving him unable to scream despite the intense pain.

“Shhh…” his master gently pat the back of his head to reassure him once the heat was removed, “Just two more…”

Only slightly aware of how wrong it was, Izaya welcomed the gentle petting. It was the first time a touch had felt pleasant in a long time. His eyes slipped closed while he awaited the next bout of pain.

…~-~...

Izaya lay on his stomach, his injuries stinging underneath their bandages. He wouldn’t disobey ever again, he decided. It only made his situation worse.

His arms and legs were left untied, but he felt no desire to attempt to escape lest he was caught in the act. He was stuck in a sort of mental state of limbo--wishing he could be freed but too afraid to try it himself.

  



	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter of flashback after this one. Thank you again for reading and especially for the comments and kudos!

…~Week Four~...

Everything has a breaking point. The moment at which something has taken as much strain as it possibly can handle before it finally gives in to the pressure. For Izaya, it was a dream. A dream which, when he woke had brought his entire world crashing down.

It was Shizuo. In his dream, the man he hated to love had burst through the door of his prison in a rage — a rage, for once, not directed towards Izaya, but rather towards his captor.

“I can’t believe he did this to you!” the dream-Shizuo had said, “Come on, I’m getting you out of here.”

Tears of relief had formed in Izaya’s eyes as he reached out for the man standing before him.

_ Please…  _ he thought,  _ take me far away from here, Shizu-chan… _

Shizuo’s arms wrapped around him and he felt a warmth and gentleness unlike anything he had experienced before.

He couldn’t express the joy he felt with words…

And then it was torn away from him.

Lackluster eyes opened and were greeted by darkness. He was cold. Hands shaking, he wrapped the rag he had been given tightly around himself. The rough “blanket” was a reward for his good behavior.

Shizuo wasn’t coming for him. Nobody was coming for him. Even if  _ someone _ was looking, he didn’t exactly leave a trail to be followed.

Nobody was coming.

He would never be rescued from this hell.

He would never escape.

Forced to be a slave until he finally dropped dead. The end of his horrible existence. Whether there was an afterlife or not, Izaya found himself longing for death.  _ Anything _ but here.

Tears filled his eyes and began falling freely. He would be stuck here until he died. That was it. The idea began to sink in and he began to mourn for the life he would never be able to have again. In the midst of it all, Shizuo’s face drifted back into his thoughts and a sharp pain filled his chest.

The tears fell steadily now when he realized he would never see Shizuo again.

Now more than ever he wished he hadn’t grown so attached to the blond. If he had never let himself fall in love with the brute, maybe he wouldn’t feel so awful now. On the other hand, maybe if he had tried to develop a relationship besides hatred with him, Shizuo would be out there searching for him and he might have a chance at freedom.

A too-thin body attempted to curl up into a ball only to be stopped by the pain of the wounds on his back. He lay on his side, in a half curled position, too weak to hold back his tears. His entire form shook with the force of the sobs that forced their way out. He had been trying to keep it inside. Trying to hold out for any shred of hope.

But there was none.

There was no point trying to hide his pain from himself anymore. There comes a point when one has to admit defeat to oneself.

He was broken. His master had won.

“Shhh…”

The sound barely reached his ears. It wasn’t until he felt something brush his cheek that he realized he wasn’t alone anymore.

“Don’t cry, pet,” his master’s voice said softly, “You’re okay. You are where you belong now.”

How could those words sound so sweet? How could that brush against his cheek, gently wiping the tears away feel so good?

Izaya only cried harder.

“Shhh… it’s okay,” he said again, gently petting Izaya’s hair, “Come here…”

His master tugged on his shoulder and Izaya allowed himself to be led closer to the cause of his torment. Arms wrapped around him and Izaya didn’t even try to put up a fight.

It… almost…

No… it  _ did _ feel good.

The man holding him was the reason behind his pain. He knew this. But he couldn’t refuse the comfort he was being given. Not long ago, he would have been ashamed of the way his body tried to press in closer with this man. Not long ago, he wouldn’t have believed it was possible to let himself go this far for something as simple as human contact.

It was wrong. But it didn’t  _ feel _ wrong.

“I’ve been checking on you a lot over the past few days,” his master said quietly, “You might not be aware of this, but aren’t getting enough sleep.” As he spoke he began gently rubbing a part of Izaya’s neck that the collar tends to put pressure on.

Izaya let out a small whimper in response.

“I’ll give you a little something to help you sleep and when you wake up I’ll give you a bath.”

True to his word, he did just that. When Izaya woke up from probably the best sleep he had gotten since arriving here, (whatever he had been given was strong), Izaya allowed himself to be led by the collar to the bathroom.

He obediently held his wrists out and his ankles together to be tied as he usually was, and then he waited while his master dug into his coat pocket to retrieve the key to his collar. Izaya was then carefully set in the tub where he curled up into a ball the best he could without disturbing the stitches on his back.

The warm water felt pleasant on his chilled skin. This was his first real bath since he had been whipped. Previously he had only been given a sponge bath because of the wounds on his back. They weren’t healed yet, but they were making progress — at least that’s what he was told. There was no mirror for Izaya to be able to see for himself. He could only judge based on the amount of pain he felt when he moved too much. If he tried to reach them to feel with his hands, the stitches would pull in an uncomfortable way which prevented him from knowing for sure what damage was done.

As his master began washing his hair, Izaya couldn’t help but notice how gentle he was being. Still quite groggy from the drug he had been given, Izaya was lulled back to sleep while his master washed him.

…~-~...

The next few days, Izaya put up no resistance. If he was told “suck harder”, he would suck harder. If he was told “raise your ass”, he would comply. If he couldn’t breathe with his master’s cock shoved deep in his throat, he merely accepted that he might suffocate. He would never try biting again, no matter how much it hurt.

“Good boy” was becoming a phrase he heard often. A phrase he wanted to hear because it meant he did well. It meant he wouldn’t be punished today.

Izaya spent his time alone sitting on the bed with his knees drawn up against his chest, and his chin on his knees. His arms wrapped around his legs in an attempt to keep warm. He could tell he had lost some weight and thus was more sensitive to the cold than usual.

He had the freedom to walk around the room, but the sound of the chain dragging along the floor made him feel light headed. The sound reminded him that what he was experiencing was real. When he sat on the bed however, Izaya could spend his time lost in his thoughts — even imagining he were somewhere else, detaching himself from his body. 

He would remain like this for hours at a time until he was either ready to sleep, or his master came in to use him once again. 

Izaya had long since gotten used to being forcefully penetrated. While it still hurt, it was a much more dull pain than it used to be. He found if he relaxed the muscles down there it didn’t hurt nearly as much as when he used to resist it.

As he lay on his side, muscles aching from his master’s most recent visit, Izaya allowed his tears to fall freely, too exhausted to wipe them away.

Everything has a breaking point. Izaya had finally reached his.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I ended up deciding to do this chapter in 2 parts, so I lied. There is one more flashback chapter after this one. But this one is longer, so rejoice!

It was there. It was  _ right there. _ The literal key to his escape. The jacket that he had seen contain the key to the collar around his neck was sitting, unguarded, on top of the dresser in the corner. 

However it was out of his reach. The chain only extended so far, meaning he could not reach the dresser no matter how he tried.

He needed a tool to reach it but there was nothing within his reach that would work. There was no telling how long until his master would return. If he was caught… he shuddered at the thought of what punishment he might receive if he was caught trying to escape. But he couldn’t idly let this chance pass by untouched.

He searched everywhere in his reach for something — anything — he could use. But there was nothing… nothing except —

The blanket.

Working quickly, Izaya tore the rag off the bed and held tightly onto one corner. He flung the other end at the jacket, but the rag only grazed the dresser. He would have to give it a few more centimeters… He could lose his grip if he wasn’t careful and miss out on this chance entirely. Holding onto the tip of the corner, Izaya tried again.

_ Flop _ .

The jacket was pulled to the floor. Izaya’s heart raced. His hands shook violently in fear and anticipation. He could do this. He just had to work quickly.

Carefully, he dragged the blanket towards him. A few times the rag lost its grip on the jacket and he would have to cast it out again.

Almost.

It was almost within reach.

Izaya’s heart felt like it was about to burst from his chest.

He shouldn't be doing this. What if he were caught? He should stop before it was too late…

No.

Freedom was so close. he couldn't give up the chance to matter how much pain it would cause if he were caught.

The tips of his fingers touched the jacket. He pulled it in and shoved his hand into the pocket. His fingers wrapped around cold metal as tears welled in his eyes.

_ Move faster damnit _ , he told his worn body.

The keys were in his hands. There was a clattering as Izaya desperately tried to unlock the collar from his neck. The key slid into the lock. Izaya tuned it and a click rang out into the silence. It was the most beautiful sound he could have imagined.

The lock was open. The collar fell from his neck and clattered to the floor. He should have been concerned that the noise would attract attention but Izaya was solely focused on his goal.

First he checked the door. Nothing. The keys he grabbed didn’t have the key to the door. He could try to pick the lock if he had anything in the room to use, but there was nothing.

His eyes darted around the room until landing on the small, discolored patch close to the ceiling. It could be a window.

Moving as fast as his body would take him, Izaya tried to jump up to it, but his muscles were too weak from who knows how long being tied down.

He glanced around again. The dresser. With lightning speed, Izaya leapt over to the dresser and shoved. It was heavy. Rather than pushing it under the window, he ended up knocking the whole thing over with a loud crash.

“Shit!” he exclaimed.

Jumping up onto the side of the dresser, Izaya latched into what he could now see clearly as a piece of plywood nailed into the wall. He pulled hard on a corner where a nail was located. It pulled out of the wall. He pulled again. Another nail popped out. Bracing his foot against the wall, Izaya pulled with all of his strength. Although severely weakened, his desperate situation allowed for him to call upon strength he didn’t know he had. With one massive pull, the board came loose and Izaya fell backwards off the dresser.

It should have hurt but the adrenaline pumping through him made him able to ignore it. He felt no pain when he looked up to see what could only be a blurred street light through frosted glass. He sat up and took notice that the dresser drawers had popped open and a small bit of fur was sticking out. His hand wrapped around the familiar fur and he pulled his jacket out along with his pants. He hastily put them on, followed by his shoes.

Once his shoes were on, Izaya scrambled to his feet and leapt back up to the window. It was locked with a padlock from the outside.

There was no thought or hesitation behind his actions when Izaya flung his elbow hard into the glass. It broke fairly easily, although he was now bleeding from the impact. He made quick work of the remaining shards of glass, knocking and pulling them out of the way so they couldn’t cut him open when he finally lifted himself up with all of his strength and clambered out the window.  

Izaya hated the cold. Cold weather was the enemy. However when cold outside air hit his face, Izaya welcomed the sensation, trying to hold back tears of relief as fresh air filled his lungs.

He couldn’t allow himself to cry right now. He needed his vision to be clear to figure out exactly where he was and how to get away.

The window had opened into a long, narrow alley. It was nighttime, but Izaya’s eyes were already well-adjusted to the dark.

When he stepped out onto the street he found it to be relatively empty save for a few people who eyed him curiously. He knew he probably looked like trash. He definitely felt like it. Izaya forced those useless thoughts to the back of his mind in favor of figuring out his situation. Right now he needed to put as much distance between himself and that vile place as possible.

Yet when he continued walking Izaya found himself stopping once more. He was suddenly feeling overwhelmed as he brain tried to process everything he was seeing, hearing, and smelling. The lights felt way too bright — brighter than he remembered street lights being. Signs pointed to a bunch of different landmarks around the area but Izaya found himself unable to process what he was reading. Despite it being a quiet night, he could hear cars driving by, people talking, and background noises that he couldn’t distinguish — all of which filling his brain with information, but none of it useful.

He closed his eyes to try to focus when the scent of something cooking hit him and forced him to keep moving. He was shaking with hunger at the scent but he didn’t have the time — nor money for that matter — to stop for food. He kept his goal in his mind as he finally stepped forward, trying to take things one step at a time.

…~-~...

Itabashi Station. He was near Itabashi Station. After wandering the streets frantically as he tried to get his bearings, Izaya spotted a sign that finally made sense. The sign pointed to the left and Izaya followed it.

He didn’t have any money to take the train home (it was likely closed for the evening anyway), but it was a good landmark. He knew the route to his apartment in Ikebukuro from the station. His job took him all over Tokyo after all.

Picking up the pace, Izaya ran. Now that he knew which direction to go, he felt more confident running. The last thing he had wanted was to get lost in an unfamiliar area.

However, he tired out quickly. By the time he reached the station he was already out of breath and the muscles in his legs ached from disuse.

As he leaned against a wall for support, something caught his eye. A bright sign that bathed the dark entrance to the station in an orange light.

It was a sign displaying the date and time.

3:45 AM. 

November 21st. 

Izaya stared at the sign in awe, frozen for a moment as he tried to understand the meaning of what he was seeing.

Thirty-seven days. He had been stuck in that hellhole for thirty-seven days.

Izaya felt sick. His vision swam and his legs suddenly felt very weak. He couldn’t breathe properly and he felt as if he might faint. He knew it had felt like a long time, but he assumed his perspective on time was just skewed.

“Sir? Are you alright?”

Startled Izaya’s eyes lifted and looked towards the source of the sound. It was a woman, probably not much older than himself. She was talking to him.

The first person other than Jiro to speak to him in thirty-seven days.

“You look very pale,” she said hesitantly when she got no response, “Would you like me to call an ambulance?”

“No,” Izaya said, finally finding his voice, “I’ll… be fine”

The words were more meant to comfort himself than to answer the woman in front of him.

“The station is closed do you need a phone to call a ride?” she asked.

Izaya smiled for the first time in a very long time. “You’re too kind,” he replied, “But no, I don’t have anyone to call.” Izaya looked over the woman once more before finally turning his back and walking in the direction of his apartment. “I’m going home and I suggest you do the same. There are some messed up people on the streets this late at night.”

Izaya didn’t turn around to look at the woman as he spoke. Her kind words helped pull him out of what he could only describe as a panic attack. Now he returned his focus to getting home.

Home…?

Wait…

In his rush to get away, Izaya hadn’t thought about a few crucial details.

He quickly checked his pockets. His wallet was missing, but the key to his apartment was still there. That was some good luck right there, but there was another major problem.

He had been gone for over a month…

He hadn’t paid his rent and the landlord had no way to contact him.

Maybe, with a little more luck, the landlord had gone ahead and taken the money from the rental guarantee company and all he would have to do is pay the company. Worst case, he was evicted and would come home to find his apartment empty or rented out to someone else.

If that was the case he would have to manage somehow…

Izaya continued his walk towards the home he hoped he still had when finally, he saw a sign for Ikebukuro. He picked up the pace, as he once again walked the streets where he had grown up.

Mind solely focused on his goal, Izaya was paying little attention to his surroundings. He hadn’t even noticed who he had just passed by across the street.

“Hey!” the deep familiar voice caught Izaya off guard, “What do you think you’re doing walking around ‘bukuro this late, huh?!”

Izaya turned towards the source of the voice and stared at the man rapidly approaching him.

“Shizu-cha — aack?!”

Before he could even finish speaking, a rough hand had him by the throat and forced him up against a wall. The harsh impact aggravated the healing wounds on his back causing Izaya to let out a small cry of pain.

In the moment, Izaya forgot that he wasn't supposed to show pain in front of this man. However it probably didn't matter. Now that Shizuo had him quite literally in his grasp, Izaya knew he was staring death in the face. So close to freedom only to be killed by the monster he loved. It was poetic, really.

_ Maybe this is for the best, _ he thought. Being killed by Shizuo was better than risking Jiro finding him again. At least with Shizuo his death would be swift.

There was a long pause while Izaya awaited his fate, eyes tightly closed as he anticipated the last pain he would have to endure before his death. But there was nothing.

Cautiously Izaya opened his eyes.

Shizuo was glaring at him, but his hand had loosened it's grip to allow Izaya to be able to breathe, just holding him in place.

“What's wrong with you, Flea?” he asked without a hint of concern, his tone sounded more like he was accusing him of something, “You're acting weird.”

Izaya only stared back in silence. He didn't know how to respond. This didn't even feel real. Why hadn’t he been killed yet? Was Shizuo really standing here or was this a dream? Was he going to wake up in that horrible place to find none of it had happened? His hands began to shake but he hid them in his pockets. No, this was real. It felt different than any of his dreams. Shizu-chan was simply being as unpredictable as ever.

For a moment Izaya let his eyes wander to take in Shizuo’s appearance. He was wearing what looked like a fast food worker’s uniform. He must have gotten a new job. That explains why he was out so late.

“Hey, Flea! You hear me?” his grip around Izaya’s neck tightened again making Izaya cough. “Why aren't you fighting back?”

The words echoed in his head. Fight back…? He could fight back…?

Then he remembered. He was  _ supposed _ to fight back. That's why Shizuo was confused. Somehow, in 37 days Jiro had trained him not to try fighting back!

“You sick or something?” Shizuo questioned, looking Izaya up and down, “You look like shit.”

The pressure around his neck was removed and Izaya’s knees began to tremble. It took all of his concentration to stay on his feet.

“It wouldn't be fair for me to kill you when you're sick,” Shizuo said, turning his back, “Just stay the fuck out of my sight.”

It wasn't until Shizuo was gone and he was left in silence once more that Izaya collapsed, falling to his knees. He knew what had happened. Shizuo had taken pity on him. The man had an otherworldly instinct. He knew something was wrong and chose not to fight a man who was clearly already weakened.

“Fuck,” Izaya whispered, arms wrapping around himself. He remained on the ground for a few minutes, holding himself tightly until his breathing evened out again and strength returned to his legs.

He wasn’t shaking anymore, but he still found it hard to pull himself back to his feet. Exhaustion was beginning to set in. The rush of adrenaline he had been riding on up until now had finally left him.

The cold air felt as if it was blowing straight through him as he continued on. Finally, he turned down the street where his apartment complex was located. Grasping his key, he hoped for the best.

He was at the door now. There was a letter.

Tearing it opened Izaya scanned the contents to find that he had gotten very lucky. He would have to pay a late fee as well as pay the rental guarantee company, but he still had a home for now.

Turning the key and opening the door brought a feeling of relief. Once inside, he quickly closed and locked the door, as well as the security chain.

The first thing Izaya did was search his apartment. After he was sure he was alone, he shoved his couch against the door as a barricade and headed directly to the bathroom.

It was there that he turned on the shower, removed his clothes, and froze when he caught a glimpse of someone else in the bathroom.

Izaya stared for a moment until he finally realized that he was looking in the mirror. The stranger in his bathroom was himself. He stepped forward to examine himself for the first time in over a month.

Shizuo wasn’t lying.

He looked like shit.

There were dark circles under his eyes accentuated by his much-too-pale skin. His cheeks and neck were thinner and even his eyes appeared to be different. If he were analyzing another person, he would say that their eyes looked dead, as if they had given up on life. With those dead eyes, Izaya examined the rest of his body. There were bruises littering his torso and his ribs were too prominent to be even considered healthy. The cut on his elbow from breaking the glass wasn’t bleeding anymore, but it was red and swollen. He would have to bandage it later. As his eyes continued down his body, they were attracted to a dark patch on his hip. Izaya stared at the mark in the mirror that was already almost completely healed. He could still clearly make out the kanji for “slave” that had been burned into his skin.

As the mirror began to fog over, Izaya began to turn around, however he hesitated. He felt as if he wasn’t ready to see what the injuries on his back looked like, yet at the same time, he felt like he needed to know.

He turned his body so that his back was to the mirror and turned his head to see. Izaya’s eyes stared blankly at the marks on his back. They were jagged and ugly. Five long scars littered the once flawless skin of his back. They were partially healed, but the worst of the five — the one that extended from his left shoulder diagonally to the middle of his back — was bleeding slightly from when Shizuo had pushed him against the wall.

Izaya continued to stare long after the mirror had fogged up and he could no longer distinguish the marks in his reflection.

Tearing his eyes away, Izaya stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to wash over him. His back stung where the injury had re-opened, but he ignored it in favor of getting clean.

Izaya washed himself head to toe 5 times and still didn’t feel clean. His skin felt raw from his scrubbing combined with the water that reddened his skin with its intense heat.

Reaching down, Izaya plugged the tub and allowed the water to fill up. Maybe if he soaked in the water for a while he might begin to feel clean.

  
  



	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way longer than expected I am so sorry. But as I said, I do not plan to abandon this fic. It just might take me a while to complete it. But the next chapter is back to the present timeline which I know many of you were waiting for. I will try to have the update up faster than this but I can't promise anything. My life has been pretty hectic lately and it doesn't help having to battle depression and anxiety on top of it all... 
> 
> But anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter and don't forget to comment and leave kudos if you haven't already! That shit cheers me up immensely. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and being patient!

Izaya woke up shivering. The sudden cold confused him. Hadn't he been warm in the bath a moment ago? Gradually he became more aware of his position, his exhausted mind catching up with reality.

“Ah,” the small sound left his lips when everything finally made sense.

He had fallen asleep in the tub and the cooling water had taken the little body heat he had from him.

With a great deal of effort, Izaya tried to stand up, the now cold water brushing up against his skin as he moved. His joints were stiff as he finally stood and pulled himself out of the tub. Quickly reaching for his towel, Izaya wrapped himself tightly in it as he shivered again.

Izaya wanted nothing more than to dry off and get into some warm clothes, however his reflection in the mirror stopped him once more. He needed to bandage his injuries first. At least the new ones. He wasn't bleeding anymore which made things a little easier to examine and clean with his well-stocked first aid kit; however, the wounds on his back that had reopened slightly during his escape were impossible to reach on his own. Examining them in the mirror as if they were not part of his own body, Izaya decided to leave them as they were. Eventually, when they healed more, he could try to remove the makeshift sutures that Jiro had done.

With the bandages in place Izaya slipped out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. It felt strange to have that kind of freedom, but Izaya did the best he could to shake that feeling off for now.

A pair of black sweatpants, a grey hoodie, and the warmest socks he could find was what Izaya had chosen to wear. With clean, warm clothes, Izaya located his laptop and spare cell phone and brought them back into his bedroom. Locking the door behind him, Izaya wiped the dust off of the electronics before moving to his bed and shaking the thin layer of dust off of his comforter.

It felt surreal knowing that he had been away long enough for dust to begin to build up, but once again, Izaya ignored the feeling in an effort to keep himself composed.

Shivering once more, Izaya slipped under the blankets and propped himself up with pillows. He wanted to be warm, but he didn't want to fall asleep just yet. He had to take care of some business first.

Izaya paid his bills with a small amount of his emergency fund and began to catch up with some of the recent news. When he found there was nothing out of the ordinary, Izaya moved on.  

Using his various contacts and his Web of information, Izaya was able to dig up a few important pieces of information about his captor. Kimura Jiro was, indeed, the man’s real name; however it might as well have been fake. There was nothing on the man he hadn't found before the meeting, so Izaya expanded his search.

After 4 hours, Izaya realized why Jiro had chosen to provide his real name. Under that name, he had a clean slate, and the information was all easily verified to be true. His aliases however, were a different story. He had 3 of them. After exhausting his information sources of everything he could dig up, Izaya found that Jiro’s 3 aliases held all of his crimes. After all, dealers in the sex trade, drug trade, and child pornography industry didn't care to verify your information. Each alias was involved in a different business while in the surface, Jiro worked and seemed a regular guy. Izaya dug deeper into each name. He was good at covering his tracks. Very good. The only true connection the aliases had in common with Jiro was his looks, meaning that although Izaya knew they were all the same person, there wasn't enough evidence to bring to the police. Except one. A photograph he had been able to dig up. It was slightly blurry, probably taken without his knowledge, but it showed his face interacting with a nude child “model”.

All it took was to leak the info to the police via another connection along with some information including his name. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it would put his mind at ease knowing that man was being closely guarded in a prison cell.

Now all Izaya had to do was wait.

But from a safer location might be a better idea.

Reluctant to leave the warm spot he had made in his bed over the past few hours, Izaya decided his safety was more important than taking a nap. He quickly booked a hotel for a week, changed into something more presentable, and packed a bag of essentials.

Traveling during the daytime felt much different than his escape the previous night.

It was the light that hit him first. He was seeing sunlight for the first time in thirty-seven days. The curtains were closed in his apartment and Izaya hadn't even thought to open them while he scoured the Internet for information.

It was bright. Too bright. Izaya flipped his hood up to protect his sensitive eyes. As much as he wanted to enjoy being able to see the light, it was giving him a headache. 

He walked for five minutes until he was forced to step into an alley and call a taxi.

It had gotten to be too much. The people he normally loved to be around were suddenly intimidating. There were so many of them. They packed the streets causing them to occasionally brush up against Izaya, startling him for a moment every time he felt the touch of another person.

In the back of his mind he knew Jiro could very easily be hiding in this crowd, watching him. He had been hypervigilant, trying to watch his own back to be sure no one was following him. Finally the paranoia had become too much, forcing him to have to slip to the side of the street and call a taxi. His hands were shaking in his coat pockets where his right hand was wrapped tightly around his spare knife, ready to fight at a moment's notice.

But the fight never came.

A few hours later Izaya was tucked between the sheets of a large bed in a luxury hotel with the best security he could find.

Behind a locked door Izaya had collapsed into the soft bed, exhausted beyond anything he had felt before. Finally, Izaya got the sleep he desperately needed.

When he woke again, it was 5PM. He wasn’t awake because he had gotten enough rest, he had woken because if the pain in his stomach, reminding him he hadn’t eaten in quite a while and demanding food was more important than sleep.

It was astonishing how everyday routines became so foreign to Izaya in such a short amount of time. The fact that he could eat what and when he chose was something he realized he had taken for granted all his life. As he scanned the room service menu, Izaya’s mouth began to water at the thought of eating real food, not some drugged slop that was given the name “rice porridge”.

As tempting as it was to simply order everything on the menu, Izaya’s logical side knew he would have to take it slow to allow his body the time to adjust to eating real food again. So he opted to order a bowl of chicken udon and water.

The food arrived promptly and the scent began to fill the room as Izaya attempted to control himself and eat slow. The first bite nearly ruined his control.

It was perfect. Absolutely delicious. The moment the food hit his stomach, tears formed in his eyes and began falling steadily. He had held it together until this point, Refusing to show his own pain to himself. But the taste of good,  _ real _ food pushed him over the edge. The tears continued to fall down to the last bite of udon. When he was finished, he filled a glass of cold, clean tasting water and downed the entire glass in one go.

Izaya set his plates on the nightstand and collapsed back into the bed. The tears wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t make them stop.

Curled up under the soft blankets, Izaya continued to cry even as sleep finally took him once again, tears falling intermittently throughout his sleep.  

…~-~...

Everyday life was difficult for the next few months. His physical injuries were healed, however he was having lasting psychological symptoms. Nightmares were the main problem. Nightmares which seemed to continue even after he woke. Izaya despised those brief moments where nothing and everything felt real at the same time.

Sometimes he wondered if his freedom was real, or if he was going to wake up in that dark room again, arms and legs tied up and neck chained to the wall.

Yet out of everything that felt strange and foreign to Izaya, the biggest adjustment was his move away from Ikebukuro. He hadn't gone far, but the change of scenery in his new loft in Shinjuku had taken a bit of time to become a place he could call home. He imagined Shizuo was thrilled to have him doing most of his business outside Ikebukuro, but every once in a while, he ventured back into the district in which he was born and raised both for work, and because the people in Ikebukuro were by far the most interesting in Tokyo.

These first few months of freedom had other trials, though. Izaya began to feel something he had never felt before when interacting with clients; anxiety. He knew Jiro was now behind bars. The evidence he had leaked was enough to keep him out of the way for a few years while Izaya decided what to do with him. However meeting new clients was becoming a taxing experience.

Izaya tended to do more work for familiar clients, often unwilling to take the risk to see anyone new and unknown. He didn't want to make the same mistakes he made with Jiro, however this quickly led to avoidance of new clients all together until finally, Izaya grew fed up with himself and decided to give himself a push back into the underworld. He began taking more clients again, though not without multiple thorough background checks and a meeting place of his own choosing, which was usually a public space where it would be unwise to pull any weapons.

A few more months passed and the nightmares had yet to go away. There had even been a few times when the nightmares were accompanied by a horrible feeling of dread and fear that left him shaking and unable to think or breathe properly. Izaya finally accepted that those moments were likely some kind of anxiety attack.

He had expected these symptoms, along with a few other undesirable feelings to disappear with time. However, while they had become fewer and farther between, they would not completely leave him alone.

It was frustrating. All rational thought couldn't keep him from experiencing these moments of weakness even if he knew he was safe. He had been avoiding seeing a doctor or psychologist because he knew what they would say. He had studied psychology.  He knew what was probably wrong yet he couldn't accept it as fact. It wasn't until the first true flashback that had left him confused, drained, and an emotional wreck that he finally decided to confirm his suspicions. But not with a doctor. No, he wouldn't explain this to anyone. He had books on how the mind works. Tons of them. He didn't need anyone to diagnose what he already felt deep down past all of the denial and irrational anger.

Yet at the same time he didn't want to believe it until he was given the hard facts. With a book in his hands, Izaya began to read. When he realized his symptoms matched with each line he read, he could feel himself slip. When his grip was so tight that it tore the paper halfway down the page Izaya put the book down.

He thought he was strong.

At least stronger than this…

Perhaps strong enough not to end up like this.

But there was no denying the evidence thrown in front of his face. It had been over 6 months since he had escaped and the symptoms remained. At some point Izaya would have to admit to himself that he might have to spend the rest of his life dealing with the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.  

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long... I've had a pretty bad couple of weeks. My cat got very sick very quickly and we had to put him down last week, and on top of that, my friend's dog was put down the very same day. And in the midst of it all I have been dealing with my anxiety in general, and my boyfriend got in a car accident (he's fine, car wasn't and so I had to help him find a new vehicle that same day). And now I have to start preparing for job interviews for a career I'm not even sure I want. 
> 
> So yeah. I'm doing my best to keep up with this fic though. I hope there aren't too many mistakes in this chapter because I didn't proof read it much. 
> 
> But thank you all for the comments and kudos! They really brighten up my day.

“That’s it?” Shizuo asked with a mixture of irritation and surprise. 

“I told you,” Izaya began, stepping inside his apartment, “I only need you to be my bodyguard when I’m out of the apartment. All I needed today was groceries.”

“Yeah, okay,” Shizuo mumbled.

The two stared at one another awkwardly, neither one sure how to end this strange outing.

Izaya was the one to finally break the tense silence. “I’ll call you when you are needed again.” And with that he closed the door, probably with a little more force than necessary.

With a sigh of relief, Izaya finally dropped the groceries and collapsed onto his knees.

“Damn it…” he whispered to himself.

The trip had been more difficult than he had thought. His body still wasn’t strong enough to handle trips like this. Especially with the added mental strain of shopping with the man who, just a few months ago, caused his current physical trauma. And is wasn’t like the entire trip was as simple as walking to the store and back…

…~-~...

“I still hate your guts.”

“Then why are you helping me?”

He could have just accepted what Shizuo said, yet deep down he felt it wouldn’t be right for him not to push Shizuo. He needed to keep up appearances that he was doing well after all.

“Shut up. I told you already. it’s because I don’t want some psycho that has you scared enough to come crawling to me for help wandering the streets.” Shizuo instantly knew he struck a nerve when Izaya shot a dark glare in his direction.

His eyes slipped closed as he let out a quiet breath to calm himself. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll be quiet now.”

It felt like he ran into a brick wall. Opening his eyes when he was nearly knocked over, Izaya looked back ahead of him to see that Shizuo had stepped into his path.

“Are you threatening me, I-za-ya-kun?” He asked in a low voice, standing his ground.

Izaya considered this for a moment. “And what if I am?”

Shizuo stepped forward, forcing Izaya back until his back hit a real brick wall. “We can finish our last fight here and now.”

“We did finish it, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said quietly. “But you were too weak to hit me hard enough to kill me. You would have rather let that a _ ssassin  _ do it for you--”

A sudden movement and a crash cut Izaya off. Shizuo pulled his fist out of the crumbling brick right next to Izaya’s head.

“Don’t bring her into this,” he said darkly, “She has nothing to do with you anymore.” Shizuo didn’t wait for a response as he turned and continued walking towards the store. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Izaya was silent for a moment as he leaned against the wall, stunned, knees barely holding him up. If Shizuo had really been aiming for him, he would be done for. Obviously Izaya’s reflexes were not as sharp as they used to be.

_ But what was that reaction? Why didn’t he hit me? Why was he so damn calm? And why is he still planning to escort me to the store?! _

“Just get your shit so we can get out of here,” Shizuo grumbled as they entered the grocery store.

Already feeling the pain from the walk to the store--not to mention the sudden threat to his life--Izaya didn’t argue and pulled out his list.

He could feel Shizuo’s disapproving glares as he picked up certain items. Clearly Shizuo wasn’t a fan of the tea, coffee, and certain vegetables Izaya picked up.

“Is that all you eat? No wonder you’re such a twig.”

“It’s healthy. Unlike the burgers you shovel down all the time. Besides, I need cooking supplies if I’m gonna be around the apartment a lot. As you saw last night, my refrigerator is empty. Normally I’d grab something from a convenience store or Namie would cook something for me, but she’s gone and I’m not about to have you accompany me to the store for every meal, so I’m gonna have to do some more cooking…”

“Whatever,” Izaya could practically hear an animalistic growl in Shizuo’s voice. Clearly he’d had enough. “Just hurry up and get everything else you need.”

A couple minutes passed in silence until finally they were walking out the door. Izaya’s focus had shifted from trying to keep up appearances in front of Shizuo, to getting home and getting some rest. His legs were beginning to hurt from too much walking and the added weight of carrying groceries home was pulling on his arms, causing an ache where the bones had recently healed.

_ Just a few more minutes…  _ he thought. 

“So you know how to cook?”

“Huh?” Izaya’s train of thought was thrown off track at the sudden, strange question. Once it finally processed in his head, Izaya spoke again. “Why the sudden interest, Shizu-chan?”

“I’m not interested,” Shizuo retorted, “Just bored.”

“Ahh~? Am I that boring?”

“Yeah when you’re stareing off with that weird look on your face.”

Weird look? He hadn’t realized he was making a face let alone what the look might have been.

“Would you prefer me talking?” Izaya continued acting as if Shizuo’s words hadn’t bothered him.

“Not about the weird shit or annoying shit you always ramble about,” Shizuo said, “But yeah, you being quiet like that is so creepy I’d almost prefer you talking.”

Izaya laughed, trying to bring some semblance of normalcy into his tone. “So you’d rather hear me talk about cooking? I think you’re the boring one! Hahaha!”

“I was just trying to start a conversation,” Shizuo grumbled, “You don’t have to be such a pest.”

“Well since you’re  _ so _ interested in knowing, yes I do know how to cook. Nothing fancy though I usually just follow a recipe. The truth is if you know how to read, you know how to cook.”

“Says you,” Shizuo scoffed, “Cooking is fucking hard when you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“It’s really not that hard,” Izaya said with a chuckle, “I mean, it’s a pain because it takes so long and you have to keep track of everything but I wouldn’t say it’s hard.”

“Again, this is coming from the fucking smartass who always got top marks.”

“Did you just compliment me?”

“What? N-no! Well yeah you’re smart but I said ‘smartass’ meaning that you are smart but you use that to be an ass.”

Izaya didn’t miss the stutter in Shizuo’s response. “Oh? Is that what that means?”

“Shut up!” Shizuo barked, “Ugh forget what I said. I think I prefer you being all quiet.”

“Oh no, no, no, you started this conversation! You don’t get to take it back now! So tell me, Shizu-chan, do you ever cook at home or is every meal take-out or McDonalds?”

“I said shut it, Flea!”

“So am I correct?”

“No! I mean… I can make simple stuff but none of that crap that needs a lot of ingredients. It’s too hard to keep track of everything.”

“Sandwiches and instant ramen don’t count!”

_ CRUNCH! _

The familiar sound of twisting metal reached his ears prompting years of instinct to kick in. Izaya spun around, preparing to dodge a projectile, however this time he saw something different.

Shizuo had a crushing grip on a street sign pole with one hand, while the other was clenched into a fist. What was different than usual was that the sign post was was still attached to the concrete ground and  _ not _ flying towards Izaya’s person at high speeds.

What was more, Shizuo seemed to be relatively calm, his eyes closed and attempting to breathe slowly giving off the impression that he was counting down from 10 in his head.

Izaya stood his ground, unsure about this reaction. Why was Shizuo trying so hard not to hit him?

After a few moments, Shizuo seemed to have calmed down some, although the look in his eyes when he opened them gave the message that he was done with the conversation. His grip finally released, leaving a bend in the sign as he continued forward.

Izaya was frozen on the spot in a strange mix of curiosity and horror as he awaited Shizuo’s next move. But the blond merely continued walking forward, his shoulder hitting Izaya’s as he passed by. Izaya stumbled for a second, quickly catching himself as a dull ache grew in his shoulder--of course he had to hit the one that was previously dislocated.

“Hurry up before I leave you behind,” Shizuo called over his shoulder.

_ Is he actually taking this bodyguard job seriously? _ Izaya wondered.  

He easily could have knocked him out and left at any time, yet despite his constant taunting, Shizuo seemed dedicated to complete his duty. 

Really… What could be going through his head?

…~-~...

_ 10… _

_ Don’t kill the Flea… _

_ 9… _

_ Don’t do it… _

_ 8… _

_ This is my fault anyway for getting him talking… _

_ 7… _

_ 6… _

_ He seems smaller than he was a few months ago. _

_ 5… _

_ If I hit him now... he’s so thin I might actually kill him… _

_ 4… _

_ His reflexes are slower too… _

_ 3… _

_ 2… _

_ Just don’t kill the Flea… _

_ 1… _

_ 0… _

With a deep breath, Shizuo opened his eyes and began walking forward.

Of course he wanted to hit Izaya. He was being a pest as usual. But every time he thought about hitting him he’d remember…

Izaya’s painful screams… the fear in his voice… 

Izaya hadn’t screamed like that even when Shizuo felt the bones in his arms snap in the first solid punch he’d ever landed on him. He hadn’t screamed like that when Varona shot a dagger into his side, nor when she aimed a gun in his direction. Izaya had faced his potential death calmly when they last fought. To Shizuo, that meant those screams had another meaning in addition to pain.

Shizuo had been deeply disturbed by the video he had been given. Moreover, it still bothered him that he didn’t know who had intended for him to see it.

It very well could have been sent to him by man he saw in the video causing Izaya’s pain. Izaya was clearly terrified of that man. Why else would he be desperate enough to turn to Shizuo of all people for help?

Shizuo sighed as he finally called out to Izaya to follow him. He shouldn’t blame Izaya for pissing him off. He was the one who decided to start the conversation. He was the one who saw Izaya’s troubled expression and wanted to give him a distraction.

_ Damn Flea… Always causing trouble… _

…~-~...

Body aching, Izaya pulled himself off the floor. He needed to check the apartment before he could bring himself to relax. It was becoming a new routine to thoroughly search his living space every time he left the building. He could never be too careful. Even though it had been just over a week since he last heard from Jiro, he couldn’t allow himself to get too comfortable.

Izaya sighed as he began putting the food away. He bought too much. With how pathetic his appetite was lately he doubted he could eat all the food he bought.

_ Maybe I’ll invite Shizu-chan over for dinner _ , he thought, the idea making him chuckle.

…

…

_ Damn… _

Izaya set the last of the food in his fridge when he caught himself thinking fondly of the blond.

_ He broke your bones and almost killed you,  _ he told himself.

_ How can I still… _

Izaya hung his head as if he were ashamed. He still couldn’t let go of these feelings which had been carved deep within him over the years. And Shizuo’s strange behavior today didn’t help his already convoluted heart.

He would be losing sleep over this tonight. He could tell already.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this took a long time I apologize. I've been busy with work with the end of the school year approaching. But another 2 weeks and schools will be out so I will (hopefully) have more time to write! This chapter was going to be longer but I still have questions for my tech-literate boyfriend before I could finish it, so I had to cut it in half to get at least something out for you guys. Enjoy!

Another week passed in a similar fashion. Shizuo had been by three times including their first shopping trip. The second trip had been short. Izaya needed to pick up a couple pre-made meals from the convenience store, some more tea, some envelopes, and five flash drives.

Shizuo had given a confused look prompting Izaya to mention that while he was only taking jobs he could complete from home, he still had some information that needed to be sent directly out, via the flash drives in the mail.

“Some people prefer having the info they pay for sent that way so if they have to wipe their computer on a whim they already have it backed up.”

“Why do you have to do that? Can’t they just save it themselves and buy their own damn flash drive?”

“Yes, but it all comes down to personal preference. They feel that they would rather never have the file on their computer in the first place and just access it only through the flash drive. Older people mostly, who don’t know too much about computers. It doesn’t make a difference to me though. I just include the flash drive and postage in their fee. Sometimes I’ll even charge double or triple if I don’t like their attitude.”

“That’s fucked up of you,” Shizuo commented.

“That’s my job,” Izaya responded with a smile.  

A few days later, Izaya ran low on cooking supplies and needed to go back to the grocery store. And now, after another 4 days, Shizuo was once again at Izaya’s door.

“Where to today?” Shizuo grumbled when Izaya’s frame emerged from the door. He couldn’t help but notice that the damn book shelf was still in front of the door, replaced every time Izaya returned home.

“Post office,” he said, lifting the addressed envelopes in his hand.

“That’s it?” Shizuo wondered.

“Yes. Sorry if you think I’m wasting your precious time,” Izaya shot, stepping past Shizuo as he spoke.

But Shizuo barely noticed his words. He was focused on something else.

_ How can it be that he looks even smaller today? _

…~-~...

Izaya hadn’t gotten any sleep. None. Not even a small nap. In addition, the only thing he had ingested in the past 24 hours was about 6 cups of coffee.

It hit him that he was probably dehydrated when he made it onto the street with Shizuo close behind. He felt as if everything was on a lag. An annoying lag like when a video is playing and the sound is off just enough that it’s bothersome. On top of it all, he had barely eaten any of the food he had bought in the past week and a half. He felt as if he was only buying the food to keep up the appearance that he was still eating. He wanted it to seem like everything was normal aside from the man currently walking calmly behind him who usually would be chasing him away.

“Hey,”

Speaking of whom…

“What?”

Shizuo hesitated. “You okay? You’re slower than usual.”

Great. So it was noticeable.

“And you look like crap,” he added, “Have you been eating? Or sleeping?”

“Why the sudden concern, Shizu-chan?” Izaya asked, attempting to be subtle about picking up the pace.

“I dunno,” he shrugged, “It’s kinda hard to be a bodyguard if I can’t protect the body from itself.”

Izaya felt offended at that statement, yet at the same time he wasn’t sure how to respond. Was Shizuo showing concern for him? It didn’t make sense. He was exhausted and his brain was refusing to work properly at the moment. Fortunately, Shizuo didn’t continue to pry…

Or so he thought he wouldn’t.

“What have you eaten today, Izaya?” Shizuo asked on the way back from the post office.

Izaya didn’t answer. Shizuo spoke as if he already knew the answer anyway so he didn’t see the point.

“Did you sleep?” he added.

“Yes,” Izaya said.

“Liar,” Shizuo replied.

“Why bother asking questions you already know the answer to?” Izaya spat.

Shizuo shrugged again and ran his fingers through this hair. Izaya could just barely see his roots showing through.

“I thought maybe… you were so busy that maybe you didn’t even notice you forgot to eat or sleep. Are you hungry at all?”

“No,” Izaya said flatly.

“You sure?” Shizuo pressed, “We can make a stop for food if you want.”

“No,” Izaya repeated, “I just want to go home.”

…~Five Hours Later~...

Izaya didn’t feel safe.

One minute he was considering scrounging up something small to eat, and the next his stomach was threatening to come up through his esophagus as he stared out the window of his apartment.

“Damn bastard is just trying to fuck with me now, isn’t he?” Izaya whispered to himself as he stared at the bench across the street where Jiro sat, reading as newspaper with headphones in his ears as if he were a regular citizen on a break from work. 

With shaking hands, Izaya took out his phone and dialed Shizuo’s number, not daring to take his eyes off the man on the bench.

“Hello?”

“Shizuo I need you to come over immediately.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding on alert.

“Just hurry and plan to… plan to possibly stay overnight.”

There was a pause on the other end causing Izaya to wonder if the call had dropped until Shizuo finally spoke again.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be there soon.”

“Hurry and stay alert,” Izaya said before hanging up.

Izaya’s eyes stayed locked on Jiro even as he set his phone down on the desk. He didn’t miss the way Jiro stopped to check his watch immediately after Izaya had hung up.

Something connected in Izaya’s brain in that second. It connected and caused any color remaining in Izaya’s face to drain and left his body feeling numb and detached from his mind.

“You…” he began, “You’re listening to me, aren’t you…?”

On cue, Jiro from outside reached up to adjust his headphones before lifting his eyes up to Izaya’s window and smiling. It was a mocking smile and Izaya could practically hear his voice saying “took you long enough” in his smug tone.

Izaya leapt from his seat and closed the blinds. From the street it’s difficult to see into the apartment during the day, but seeing as the sun was beginning to set, if any lights were on inside the apartment the place became a giant fishbowl with the large windows allowing easy viewing to the interior.

He would have to search the place top to bottom and remove any microphones or cameras Jiro might have placed.

Goosebumps appeared on his skin and he shuddered at the thought that Jiro had been inside his apartment. He must have been watching from somewhere unseen for Izaya to leave the place unattended and the door unbarricaded. He didn’t doubt Jiro could have picked the lock and snuck a listening device--or two or three--into the apartment.

Izaya stopped himself for a moment. He needed to collect himself. If he began frantically searching for cameras he could skip over possible hiding spots in a panic. Slowly exhaling, Izaya took a seat on the couch and began scanning his apartment once over. The place was still fairly clean and uncluttered so there weren’t too many places to hide cameras where they wouldn’t be noticed.

First he could check where Harima Mika had hidden hers. Being a stalker, she had some experience and knew good places. The first one of hers he had found in the plant near the window. It was close to his desk so it was great for listening in, but easier to spot when looking for it.

… Nothing there…

Behind the couch was where he had found another.

Izaya turned on the flashlight on his phone and aimed the light behind the couch.

Nothing.

Maybe  _ under _ the couch? That would be a good spot and someone healthy could lift it enough to sneak something underneath, however Izaya’s arms were still too weak to lift it on his own…

Izaya nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a knock at the door. However, instead of heading directly for the door (he would need to move the shelf to be able to see through the peephole, one major flaw of the barricade), Izaya ran over to the window to peek through the blinds.

Jiro was gone.

Did he leave in time so Shizuo wouldn’t see him? Or did he time it so that Izaya would think Shizuo was at the door and open it unsuspectingly?

No, that wouldn’t make sense. Shizuo was coming meaning Jiro wouldn’t have enough time to accomplish anything before Shizuo showed up.

Unless he found a way to stall Shizuo…

_...vrrr… vrrr… vrrr… vrrr… _

His phone ringing pulled him out of his panicked thoughts. Checking the display which said “Shizu-chan”, Izaya let out a breath and answered.

“Shizu-chan?”

“Yeah, I’m here. At the door. You can open up now.”

“You’re alone, right?”

There was a short pause.

“Yeah.”

“Why did you hesitate?”

“I was checking to make sure no one followed me. Why, did someone try to get in?” he asked urgently.

“Hold on, I’m coming to the door,” Izaya said.

Hanging up the phone, Izaya headed back over to the door where he removed the bookshelf, unlocked the deadbolt, took down the security chain, and finally opened the door.

Before stepping aside to let Shizuo in, Izaya stuck his head out the door and glanced either way down the hall.

“I didn’t see anyone on my way up,” Shizuo said.

“Okay. Just come in.”

“So what’s the emergency?” Shizuo asked after removing his shoes and placing his bag on the floor.

Izaya gave no response as he locked and barricaded the door once again.

Izaya was still for a moment, his head resting against the shelf with his back to Shizuo. He was silent, leaving Shizuo to wonder if he was going to respond at all.

Finally, just when Shizuo was going to give up on receiving an answer, Izaya spoke, albeit at a whisper.

“He was outside the building.” His voice was quiet and small, but Shizuo heard every word.

“‘Was’ meaning he’s gone now?” Shizuo asked heading over to the window. “You can't point him out to me?”

Not that Shizuo would have needed to have the man pointed out. The glimpse he caught of his face in the video as well as his voice were burned into his memory. However Izaya didn't need to know that detail.

Izaya shook his head in reply. “He's been listening,” he added.

“What?” Shizuo asked, not understanding what Izaya had said.

Izaya finally turned around but his voice remained barely above a whisper.

“While I was out…” Izaya took a silent, deep breath. Shizuo could see his hands shaking despite his effort to hide them in the pockets of the hoodie he was wearing. “While I was out--I don’t know when--he must have gotten in and hid microphones. Maybe even cameras. All I know for sure is that he’s been listening.”

It was now Shizuo’s turn to be silent. It was a disturbing thought even for Shizuo who wasn’t the target. He could only imagine how Izaya might be feeling right now, knowing the man who had caused him so much pain was spying on him.

“I need to search the apartment. Can you help me lift the couch?”

“Yeah, Sure,” Shizuo didn’t question Izaya. He didn’t want to start anything right now. The air in the room was heavy with the weight of the situation. The two silently agreed to put aside their conflicting personalities and years of fighting one another in order to complete a thorough search of the apartment.

The couch would have been impossible for Izaya, Shizuo concluded. He could see the pain just barely showing on his face simply from crouching down on the floor while Shizuo lifted the heavy piece of furniture.

“See anything?” Shizuo asked, effortlessly holding the couch up. He could have lifted the thing over his head to help look, but he didn’t want to risk breaking something. There was no way he could afford to replace anything he broke in Izaya’s place.

“Yeah,” came Izaya’s solemn response from under the couch. He stood, clutching something small and black in his hand. “You can put that down now.”

Shizuo replaced the couch to see what Izaya held in his hand. It seemed to be a small microphone. Shizuo risked a glance at Izaya’s face. Izaya was staring at the thing with a glare that said he was ready to smash the thing with a hammer; however, to Shizuo’s surprise, Izaya only turned the device off and gently set it on his desk.

“There could be more,” he said, “Let’s keep looking.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again this took much longer than I anticipated and it's still super short.. But it's the second half of the last chapter finally completed so there's that!! I will try to write more later since I was struggling with how I wanted this scene to go for the longest time, but I have a plan now for how to continue from here!!!!! 
> 
> So I apologize for the wait, but like I said I promise not to drop this fic! I have a plan now and will stick to it!

Shizuo stared in a daze for a few moments as Izaya rushed over to his computer and began typing commands and opening programs that Shizuo didn’t recognize. Knowing that asking what he was doing would likely produce an answer he wouldn’t understand, Shizuo decided to follow orders and began looking around the room for anything suspicious. 

It didn’t take long…

“Uhh… Izaya…?”

Shizuo had stared for a moment before finally speaking up, considering the implications of this specific camera’s placement. It was small, but he could see a lens meaning this camera was taking video.

“What?” Izaya asked, looking through the windows open on his monitor.

“I found one,”

Izaya stepped away from his task to see where Shizuo was pointing. The camera was under the desk. Taped to the underside and pointing directly at the front of his chair.

Shizuo tried to judge Izaya’s reaction but it was difficult. He went pale as he stared at it for a minute. He wondered if Izaya was thinking the same thing as him…

He wasn’t very smart, but this camera was placed in a pretty clear view once you got below the desk level. As if the person who placed it wasn’t even trying to hide it. Shizuo couldn’t help but feel this camera was supposed to be found.

It was a message.

That Jiro was watching.

Specifically Izaya’s... Lower half…

With a sudden, swift movement, Izaya finally moved, tearing the camera out from under the desk and slamming it onto the floor where it smashed to pieces. Without a word he stormed back to his computer and began clicking around once more.

This time Shizuo decided to ask, mainly to take his mind off the view that the now smashed to pieces camera had.

“So, what are you doing?” he asked as he stepped behind Izaya.

“Checking for any new devices connected to the WIFI,” he said, “Cameras like that need to be connected to a network in order to get a live feed.”

Shizuo was surprised that made sense to him. Izaya probably wasn’t in the mood to confuse him and was likely simplifying what he was doing to something anyone could understand.

“Oh, so did you find anything?” Shizuo wondered aloud.

“No, not on my network,” he replied, “But that would have been too easy anyway. He would have made it a bit more difficult.”

Shizuo watched Izaya disconnect from his network and click another and enter the password.

“Wait, do you have two WIFI things?”

“Of course not, this is my neighbor’s,” Izaya said.

“Oh,” Shizuo paused, “Wait, you know your neighbor’s WIFI password?!”

“Who do you take me for, Shizu-chan?” Izaya replied, sounding pleased with himself. “But watch. All I have to do is open their router administration page to see what devices are connected and go through each one to see what it is until I find the camera system.”

“How will you know when you find it?”

“Most systems will present a log-in page like — that,” Izaya pointed at the screen when he opened the next device. If he wanted me to find this — which I suspect he did — he probably didn’t change the default password on the system.”

Shizuo stared, wide-eyed as Izaya tried a couple possible default passwords until finally he was logged on to the system.

“Now we let the cameras reveal themselves,” Izaya said, and with one click 6 windows opened on the screen, each displaying a different place in Izaya’s apartment, except for one, which was blank. It was likely the one they’d just found on their own.

Shizuo sat at the computer and watched as Izaya went around to where each camera had been pointing and was quickly able to identify where each camera was placed. On the screen, Izaya’s face came into view briefly before one by one the screens went black.

Although thankful that none of the screens showed the bathroom, Shizuo still was disturbed by what he had seen. Especially the final camera which was aimed at Izaya’s bed.

Finally, disabled cameras in hand, Izaya came down the stairs, dropping the 5 cameras on the table and collapsing into the couch.

“Is that all of them?” Shizuo asked wearily.

“Yeah, I think so. I think this was mostly a warning so he intentionally didn’t take it too far.”

“‘DIDN’T TAKE IT TOO FAR?!’” Shizuo finally snapped with sudden force causing Izaya to jump slightly, remembering who he was with, “HE’S BEEN WATCHING YOU ON MULTIPLE CAMERAS AND THAT’S NOT TOO FAR?!” 

“You don’t know what he’s capable of. This is nothing.”

Shizuo froze at Izaya’s calm statement. For an instant the crack of a whip and a scream rang in his head, instantly silencing him.

Izaya sat up and gave Shizuo a curious look. “Why so silent all of the sudden?”

“N-nothing…” Shizuo said quietly, “I was just thinking… you’re right I… don’t know about this guy at all. I was just thinking… you might be able to tell me? So I can know what we’re up against.”

It was a bold question for anyone to ask. Even more bold since Shizuo actually  _ did _ have an idea of what kind of relationship Jiro had to Izaya.

“There isn’t enough money in the world to buy that bit of information from me.” Izaya said, surprisingly keeping his calm. With the glare he was just given, Shizuo fully expected a knife to come flying at his face.

Yet Shizuo felt a touch daring. “I wasn’t asking to buy it from you,” he replied.

“What, you think I’d just tell you for free?” Izaya spat, leaping to his feet. “If you’re going to ask too many questions then you’re fired. I can get another body guard.”

“No, you can’t.” Shizuo stated. “I know you can’t. Otherwise you never would have asked me in the first place.” Shizuo couldn’t help but feel proud when Izaya’s mouth snapped shut and he sat back down forcefully. He had successfully made Izaya shut up for the first time since they’d met. Although the pride quickly melted away to pity with the weight of the situation.

“Listen,” Shizuo began, “I won’t keep bothering you about it… It’s really not my business, so just forget about it.”

Izaya lifted his eyes to meet Shizuo’s again. They stayed like that for a few minutes, neither thinking much beyond studying each other’s eyes. Izaya felt a sense of longing at the strength that remained in Shizuo’s eyes, while Shizuo studied the emptiness and exhaustion in Izaya’s.

It was Shizuo who finally broke the silence. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you? Let’s order some takeout and just… watch a movie or something.”

Taken aback by the friendly suggestion, Izaya’s eyes widened for an instant that Shizuo didn’t miss despite Izaya quickly breaking eye contact.

“Okay,” he whispered.

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh... Hi. 
> 
> It's been a while. 
> 
> But I'm here! And I am still writing this fic! Erm... well I haven't actually written in a while... but I still have plans to keep writing! Sorry this took ridiculously long to post but I am going to try to write more. One big reason for not writing is that I started reading a web serial called "Worm" and I HIGHLY recommend this story to just about anyone. It's about superheros but not really the typical hero story and even someone like me who isn't interested in superhero stories is hooked. The best part is its complete and long. Very long. So if you are looking for something to read while passing the time, just google "Worm web serial" and it should be the first result. 
> 
> Anyway, I will try to write more to get myself out of this horrible writers block. As soon as this is posted I plan to go back and create a plot diagram of sorts to organize what has happened, what is currently happening, and what I want to happen in the future. I think having that solid outline and an ending in mind will help focus me a bit more. Here's to hoping the next chapter won't take another 6 months!!!!!!!!!!!

_ How did this happen?  _ Izaya couldn’t help but wonder as his heart continued to pound as if he’d run a marathon. He could hear the rushing of blood in his ears, leaving him slightly disoriented. 

Every sense was on high alert, well aware of the danger so close to him.

It was an unfamiliar type of fear that sent adrenaline pounding through his system, his body screaming at him to run, but he was frozen on the spot.

“You gonna eat your dinner or just stare at it, Flea?”

His heart pounded faster as he attempted to think of a response to such a confusing question. Instead of a reply, he leapt to his feet and muttered “I’ll be right back,” and dashed off to the bathroom.

The sensation of cool water on his face and neck brought him back as it always did. Izaya let out a long sigh as he began to come down from a seemingly unprompted panic.

All they were doing was having dinner and watching some stupid movie on television. He wasn’t in danger, yet his instincts were attempting to make him believe he was.

_ How could this be happening?  _ Izaya wondered again. How could Shizuo just sit there, calmly eating dinner next to the man he had been trying to kill--and almost succeeded--for nearly a decade?!

Izaya could feel his nearly-healed arms ache slightly at the thought. 

Shizuo clearly had nothing to fear. He clearly didn’t consider Izaya a threat. And Izaya wasn’t sure whether he should be thankful for that or if he should take offense.

_ What could he be thinking? Why is he…  _ trying _ to help? _

A sudden knock on the door startled Izaya out of his thoughts.

“Izaya?” Shizuo questioned, “It’s been ten minutes. You okay?”

Ten minutes? Had it really been that long already…?

Apparently he took too long to reply. It felt like seconds for Izaya, however, after a full minute of silence, Shizuo had gotten concerned.

The door swung open and Izaya didn’t have time to compose himself. His face was still wet and he was tightly gripping the edges of the sink. He had no idea what expression was on his face, but it apparently wasn’t normal. Shizuo took one look at him before concern spread over his face. Izaya couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He merely waited for Shizuo to initiate.

When Shizuo moved, Izaya watched intently. With a sigh, he reached behind Izaya and grabbed a towel. Izaya resisted flinching when Shizuo placed the towel around the back of his neck. His concern likely showed on his face for a moment prompting Shizuo to feel the need to reassure him.

“Your face is wet. I’m just drying you off,” he mumbled. Once he was done, he left the towel draped over Izaya’s shoulders. “There,” he reached behind Izaya and gave him a small push towards the door. “Let’s go finish dinner, okay?”

Izaya nodded, embarrassed at being treated like a child, yet strangely not hating it enough to argue.

“Eat,” Shizuo said, handing Izaya his dinner of Chinese takeout. Shizuo had suggested the meal, remembering a place in Shinjuku which he had apparently found delicious. However what he didn’t know was that this particular place was a favorite of Izaya’s as well.

Finally taking a bite of his meal brought a wave of calm over Izaya. As if this was just a regular night at home. Except instead of Namie’s cold presence his company instead gave off a warmer, almost soothing vibe.

He released a deep breath, allowing himself to relax a little, if only for now. Because for now, he was safe. For now, he could feel comfortable in his own home.

A few more bites and his appetite finally kicked in. He devoured his dinner as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. When he was finished he leaned back to try to enjoy the movie playing on the television through heavy eyelids. Soon he lost track of what was happening as he began to drift off, only slightly aware that his every move was being watched by the man sitting next to him.

…~-~...

When Izaya finally began to eat Shizuo had to hold back his sigh of relief.

He couldn't deny how strange it felt to be sitting calmly next to the man he had nearly killed a few months ago, let alone be eating dinner and watching a movie with him. 

Then it hit him. Oh god, this feels like a… like a date or something…?

No, this was nothing of the sort. It was his job. He was working as a bodyguard and had made the decision to keep him alive by getting him to eat properly. That was it.

...Wasn't it?

Why didn't it feel that way…?

Shizuo glanced over at Izaya again to find that he was almost finished with his meal. Something told him that seeing Izaya begin to act normal again was all that mattered. For some reason, this something in him spoke louder than his uncertainties. His instincts have never been wrong before, so maybe… somehow… for some crazy reason, things were meant to be like this right now.

Izaya wasn’t as difficult to be around lately, and tonight, he was almost happy to be spending the night here as his bodyguard.

Shizuo was slightly startled by the sudden weight that fell against his shoulder. Izaya was there, fast asleep, likely unaware that he was leaning against him. Shizuo shifted to wake him but hesitated for a moment. Izaya was close enough for Shizuo to see the details in his face. He studied it for a moment, noticing the darkness under his eyes, and the now peaceful expression he wore. He thought about the expression he had seen on Izaya in the bathroom. It was similar to how he had looked that night he accepted the position of bodyguard. Just before Izaya had collapsed.

He was having some sort of panic attack. Shizuo recognized the symptoms from when he was a child. Realizing that he just tried to throw the refrigerator at his brother, and noticing that the fridge was now on top of him was enough of a reason to freak out a bit. Granted everyone experiences those things differently, he knew what was happening to Izaya both on that night, and just now.

It was difficult to see such a typically calm and in control person begin to slip like this. Yet Shizuo felt that, in some way, he could understand what was dragging Izaya into this state. Just as it was strange to be sitting next to the man he nearly killed, Izaya was sitting next to the one who had nearly killed him. On top of that, he didn’t seem to be fully healed from that fight. And to add more to the list a psychopathic monster of a person was terrorizing him at every moment.

Shizuo could feel a surge of empathy so intense that he couldn’t bring himself to wake Izaya. He was sleeping and from the look on his face, it was a peaceful sleep.

…~-~...

“Hey, Shizu-chan,” Izaya whispered, lightly shaking Shizuo’s shoulder, “Wake up.”

Izaya had woken to find himself leaning against Shizuo. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but it seemed that it might have happened after Shizuo had also fallen asleep, otherwise he couldn’t imagine the other man letting him use his shoulder like that.

“H-whuha?” Shizuo mumbled as he awoke. 

Izaya’s chest fluttered a bit, trying not to admit that seeing Shizuo wake up so confused was actually cute.

“I’m uh… going upstairs to bed,” he explained, “Here’s a spare blanket for you, if you don’t mind sleeping here.”

“S’fine,” Shizuo replied, taking the blanket, “thanks.”

Izaya nodded in response and headed up the stairs. Reaching the top, he looked over the ledge to see Shizuo already passed out again.

“No, thank  _ you _ , Shizu-chan…” he whispered as he turned and went off to bed. 

…~-~...

“You sure you’re gonna be okay, Izaya?” Shizuo asked over breakfast.

Shizuo was leaving for work soon and was weary about leaving Izaya alone after last night’s camera debacle.

Neither of them had mentioned the events of last night despite everything being so fresh in their minds. It didn’t feel like something that needed to be discussed at the moment with much more pressing matters at hand.

_ That bastard could just show up while I’m gone. Who knows what damage he could do before I can get here…  _

“I don’t plan to leave the building today,” Izaya responded, “I’ll keep the door barricaded. Besides, I have a gun, remember?”

The hesitation in his voice wasn’t obvious, however Shizuo could detect that Izaya was uncertain. “Maybe you should give Shinra a call. Stay with him and Celty for a bit. You’d at least be safe with her around.”

“Yeah,” Izaya said while staring at his food. He nudged at it with his chopsticks, not seeming to be eating much once again this morning. “Maybe I’ll give him a call later. I’ll be fine for now.”

That answer wasn’t what he had hoped to hear, but remembering that Izaya was packing more than just his knife now made him feel slightly better about leaving for a couple hours.

“Fine,” he said, cleaning up his plate, “I’ll stop by around lunch time to make sure everything is okay. Sound good to you?”

Izaya nodded, sipping his tea silently. “See you later,” he said when he finished.

…~-~...

Time seemed to be moving slower than usual today. Every debtor he and Tom confronted grated on his nerves increasingly more as well. Tom could tell something was off with his friend and employee, yet wasn’t sure how to ask. He had been acting strange ever since that debtor had paid in full and given him a strange envelope.

Deciding to try and ease into the topic, Tom asked what he hoped was a safe question: “So, Shizuo, anything new lately?”

Shizuo only shrugged in response. It seemed he wasn’t in a talking mood today and Tom knew there was no changing that. Looks like he wasn’t going to get any information from him today.

They approached the next stop for the day, Tom took the lead as always in knocking on the door and explaining who he and Shizuo were and why they were there, but this man didn’t seem phased by the less than intimidating men on his doorstep. He was a fairly large man, slightly balding despite the rest of him looking to be younger than forty.

“Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re here for,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. “Here’s how it’s gon’ go. I give ya some now, and some later, and some even later. I gotta have a bit for myself, ya know? So why don’t you and glasses there take this and leave for now unless ya lookin’ for a fight.”

Tom was shocked at the least. It wasn’t often that he was given this type of ultimatum with Shizuo present, and even less often did he come across someone who clearly didn’t even know who Shizuo was.

“Uhh, well you see we don’t have a layaway program here. The terms you agreed to stated you’d pay your fee in one payment and I’m not allowed to--”

“Hey wait a minute,” the man interrupted. “I ‘member where I heard your names before. Ain’t’ ya part of that trio with the hot blonde chick?”

Tom wanted to respond quickly enough to stop this idiot from getting himself killed, however he could already feel the fury radiating off of Shizuo.

“Yeah, ya are, ain’t ya? Where’s she? Those foreign chicks sure are somethin’ huh? Ah, but any hot girl will do really. Just get ‘em drunk at the bar, maybe slip somethin’ else in if ya know what I mean and they’re all yours--GAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRGGGGHHHH”

Tom watched as the man flew into the sky and smacked down about ten meters away. Luckily Tom had long since stepped out of danger’s way knowing there was no way to save this unfortunate man. Glancing down, Tom noticed his wallet had dropped from his hands when he had been hit. As he attempted to steer an enraged Shizuo away from the scene, he quickly grabbed the wallet, retrieved what they had come to collect, and fled the scene.  

Once they were a safe distance away and Shizuo had calmed down, Tom finally decided to open up conversation once more.

“You miss Varona, don’t you Shizuo?” he asked.

Shizuo shrugged, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… I guess so a little… She was my Kouhai after all,” he began, pulling his phone from his pocket to check for any messages. “But it wasn’t just that... People who think they can do  _ that _ to other people are disgusting and don’t deserve to live.”

Tom nodded. “No arguments there,” he said with a sigh. “You wanna stop for lunch?” he added to change the subject.

“Actually,” Shizuo began, “I have to… go meet a friend for a bit. Can I meet up with you again in an hour?”

  
  
  



	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I apologize for the wait... This time I was helping my best friend plan her wedding and it was a beautiful wedding and all went perfect! 
> 
> I am trying to work through these next few chapters of developing Shizuo and Izaya's relationship. It's always hard to decide what direction to take and even if I decide on something it always changes later as I begin writing the scene. 
> 
> But thank you for being patient and as always, thank you so so much for the comments and kudos!

“Hey, Shinra,” Shizuo began, sounding unsure, “I have kind of a strange question for you.”

“You haven’t been shot again, have you?” Shinra cut in. 

“No,” Shizuo replied. 

“Stabbed?”

“N-no,”

“Hit by a truck?”

“No! Would you just shut up for a second?!”

“Okay, okay! So what  _ is  _ going on? Celty and I are trying to enjoy our afternoon together!”

“Well, it’s just… this might seem like a strange question, but I was just wondering…. Have you heard from Izaya today?”

“Izaya-kun?” Shinra questioned, seeing Celty perk up at the name, suddenly on high alert. “No, I haven’t heard from him… However I did hear a rumor that he was back in town.” He glanced at Celty noticing how she seemed to want to ask him why he hadn’t told her about this rumor. “I also heard, as silly as it might sound, that he was spotted walking around with you in Shinjuku. But of course they must have been mistaken,” Shinra said with a laugh. 

“Yeah,” Shizuo agreed hesitantly. “I had heard something similar.”

“Ah I see… Well he hasn’t contacted me. All I’ve heard is rumors.”

“Yeah, thanks, I’ll talk to you later I guess.”

“Wait, Shizuo,” Shinra started, “If it’s true and he is back… well… if he doesn’t start anything with you just leave him be. I imagine he is still recovering.”

“I won’t. I just… was curious I guess.”

“I see…” Shinra replied, though he didn’t sound satisfied with Shizuo’s explanation. “Well, it was good hearing from you without a crisis in tow!” 

“Yeah,” Shizuo mumbled, “See you.”

When the line went dead Shinra stared blankly at his phone, processing what he had heard. 

A different phone appeared in his vision, interrupting his stare with a written question. “Hmm?” Grey eyes shifted from the blank screen in his hand to the new screen in front of his face. 

_ “What was that all about?”  _ Celty had typed. 

“Not sure,” Shinra responded, I am trying to figure that out myself. 

_ “Well, what did he ask you? Something about Izaya?”  _

“He was just wondering if I had heard from him. I haven’t, have you?” 

Celty made a gesture as close to shaking her head as one could do without one. 

“Strange, but I’m not going to spend time worrying about it! After all, you and I are spending today together. The last thing I want is for that to be interrupted by some lingering feud between those two idiots.”

…~-~…

A sharp knock on the door made Izaya snap his head up so quickly that it hurt. In one click, Izaya switched his screen to the new security camera outside the door. Well, it wasn’t  _ new _ , but it had been newly installed this morning the moment he had dug it out of storage. 

When a familiar blond head and blue sunglasses looking up into the camera graced his screen, Izaya sighed and stood from his desk. 

“Hey,” he greeted Shizuo as he opened the door. 

“That’s useful,” he commented, pointing at the camera. 

Izaya nodded in response as he stepped aside to let Shizuo inside. He still wasn’t sure how he should react in this situation. Shizuo was his bodyguard, yet with their complicated past he found it awkward to treat him as such, especially with the say Shizuo  _ wasn’t  _ acting like a bodyguard. 

“I brought lunch.”

Case in point. 

“It’s from Russia Sushi,” Shizuo began, avoiding eye contact and reaching up to rub his neck as he spoke, “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I just got a variety deal…” 

“Ootoro.” Izaya mumbled without thinking. Why did he feel the urge to provide an answer to a question he wasn’t even asked? 

“What?” 

Izaya sighed. “I like ootoro, but any tuna in general is my favorite.”

A curt nod was the only response Shizuo gave and soon enough they were thrown into yet another long stretch of strained silence. Shizuo was the one to finally break it. 

“You didn’t call Shinra like I suggested, did you?” he asked, setting lunch on the table. 

Izaya approached the table and took his share of food in his hands. “I’ll do it later. Maybe. I’ve been a little busy.” 

“Too busy to eat?” Shizuo asked, nodding towards the desk where a plate of toast with a single bite taken out of it sat. 

Izaya followed Shizuo’s gaze to his uneaten breakfast. 

“I don’t eat much in the morning,” That was the truth. Breakfast for Izaya rarely consisted of more than a cup of tea or coffee. 

“Well, it’s afternoon, so…” he gestured towards the box that Izaya was absentmindedly holding.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Izaya sighed again and slumped onto the couch. He flipped open the box and to his surprise his stomach rumbled with hunger. A sidelong glance in Shizuo’s direction revealed that he didn’t seem to notice. He was already working on his own lunch.

A colorful assortment of Sushi greeted him as he looked back at the box on his lap. Feeling hungry was a rare occurrence lately and Izaya wanted to take full advantage of it while it lasted. He went for the tuna pieces first, savoring each bite. It was difficult to ignore the bliss of enjoying a meal without feeling ill. Though he knew he should still be cautious. It would be unfortunate if he were to make himself sick by eating too much too fast. 

“I can’t stay long,” Shizuo said between mouthfuls, “Gotta get back to work soon. I’ll stop by again after work and maybe we can get you some groceries and clean the place up a bit.” 

Izaya paused, staring at his food as he listened. He didn’t understand. Did he ask Shizuo to come over right after work? And his tone… he spoke as if this was normal. 

“Why?” The question was quiet, almost whispered. Information about Shizuo flew around in his head while he desperately attempted to connect the strings to understand the man’s odd behavior. 

Shizuo fell quiet as well, setting his food down as a puzzled look formed over his features. His brow furrowed, and after a few seconds, softened again as he seemed to come up with an answer. 

“Because I’m your bodyguard.”

“No,” Izaya spoke abruptly, shaking his head. “Bodyguards don’t watch TV with the person they’re guarding. They don’t spend the night on the couch, they don’t bring meals over, and they certainly don’t invite themselves over to perform domestic tasks.”

Shizuo seemed to consider this for a moment, then shrugged. “So?” 

“So?!” Izaya stood, anger building with the concept that the more Shizuo responded, the more confused he felt. “What are you trying to do? What is your goal here? Why are you being like… like…” Izaya paused and gestured at Shizuo’s person, casually sitting on the couch with his lunch in his lap, “like  _ this?! _ ”

“My  _ goal _ is to protect you. Like you are paying me for. I hang around because I know  _ he _ broke in once before and you have no other protection when you’re alone here.” 

“I have a  _ gun _ .” 

“A gun that you wouldn’t even be able to aim right if he were to walk in the door right now.” Shizuo stated, “I’m hanging around because… because I want to help you and I think you need more help than you’re letting on!” 

Izaya didn’t respond this time. Instead he let those words sink in, trying not to over-analyze them. 

After a moment of silence he spoke again. “You  _ want _ to help me…?” Izaya whispered under his breath. 

Shizuo took the last bites of his lunch and checked the time, seemingly ignoring Izaya’s interrogation. “I have to go,” he said, removing himself from the couch, “Call me if anything happens.”

Eyes fixed on the floor, Izaya let Shizuo leave without another word. His mind raced, trying to sort out too much information at once. 

“He…  _ wants _ to help me…?” he repeated to himself. 

Nothing made sense. 

…~-~...

  
If he could punch himself he would be flying through the air with the force of it right now. Izaya was asking complicated questions and Shizuo couldn’t answer them without revealing how much he knew about Izaya’s relationship with the man he was hiding from. 

How could he explain why he wants to help without explaining the video he had been given? Without explaining to Orihara Izaya that he had seen a video of him being beaten and about to be raped and  _ begging _ for it to stop? That wouldn’t go over well with Izaya’s clearly sensitive pride.

Yet the longer he hid it, the more suspicious Izaya seemed to become.

“Damn it, fucking flea… You really are too smart for your own damn good…” Shizuo mumbled to himself.

He was on his way back to Izaya’s apartment after stopping at his own for a bag of clothes and a few other useful things. He’d decided he should be prepared just in case Izaya wanted him to stay again. It was weird how the thought of it didn’t completely disgust him.

It all came down to pity. He didn’t like Izaya, he pitied him. That’s why he was doing all of this. That, and of course to get a much more dangerous man off the streets.

Shizuo sighed as he approached the door. At least the flea is being tolerable and not trying to piss him off every second. It was making the time he had to be around him feel more pleasant and peaceful.

_ I just have to find this guy once and it’s over. I’ll fucking kill him. I’ll kill him for all this crap he’s putting me through… And I’ll kill him for making me feel like I  _ want _ to help that flea. _

_ Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill…….. _

“I hope you’re not talking about me.” Izaya’s voice startled Shizuo who had forgotten he had already knocked on the door.

“What?” he asked, torn out of his trance.

“You said you were going to kill someone. I was just going to point out that killing me is the opposite of what I am paying you to do,” Izaya explained, stepping to the side to let Shizuo enter.

It finally dawned on Shizuo that he had been speaking out loud a moment ago. He would have to be more careful…

“Not you,” he said, removing his shoes, “Just… some fucker from earlier…”

Izaya didn’t reply, instead working his way back to his computer.

“Have you ever stopped working today besides at lunch?”

“I’m busy,” Izaya replied, “Did you forget I was out of the city for a while? You broke my arms so I couldn’t exactly use a computer any time I wanted to.”

“Oh, right…” he trailed off, giving Izaya a look up and down. He looked a little better. Maybe a proper lunch had helped give him more energy. “Well, you’re taking the rest of the night off. Let’s get some food in this place and get you some dinner.”

Izaya didn’t respond at first. There was a lasting silence between them while Izaya stared at his computer screen, unmoving. 

“Shizuo…” Izaya began cautiously, his voice barely above a whisper, “Do you… care about me?”

What? What was that supposed to mean? Where did this come from? Shizuo stared back at Izaya wordlessly, not sure how to respond.

He didn't care about Izaya. That would imply that he liked him. So then why would Izaya ask a question like that?

“You keep checking up on me when I don't ask you to,” Izaya spoke, his voice gaining more confidence as he continued, “and lately you've taken a keen interest in my health. I'm not paying you to do these things so why are you doing them?”

“I don't know what you mean, I--”

“Don't give me that,” Izaya snapped, standing from his chair, “I don't want a bullshit answer. Tell me the truth. Why are you being so… so… nice to me?!”

Izaya stood face to face with Shizuo, studying his expression so intensely that he felt like he was trying to read his thoughts. He took a step back, thrown off by Izaya's sudden intensity to have his question answered.

“B-because…” he couldn't lie. Izaya would see straight through him. But that didn't mean he had to tell the whole truth. “Damn it Izaya it's because you look scared. Whatever this guy did that you want protection from… I can tell your fucking scared and seeing you like that kind of scares me too if there is someone out there who can make you act this way.”

Izaya closed his eyes and backed off slightly. When he opened his eyes again he looked directly into Shizuo's again. “But do you care about me. About my feelings? About my health?”

Shizuo grit his teeth. “A little. Okay? A little. Because as much as it pisses me off to admit it, you are human, Izaya, and I can't just turn my back on this without it eating away at my conscience later.”

Shizuo was admittedly a little surprised by his own response. Surprised at how easy it was to say and how truthful those words actually were.

Izaya seemed to be considering his words carefully. When he spoke, he spoke in a very precise manner that sounded very much like one would during an important business meeting.

“So then we have a truce for now,” he said. There was a pause before he continued. “I don't dislike the help you've provided. Please continue as you have been doing.”

With that, Izaya returned to his computer and sat down to continue his work.

“O…kay…?” Shizuo replied. It seemed as though Izaya was trying to remove his emotions from the conversation with that statement. As if he hadn't just been drilling Shizuo with complicated questions. Shizuo took it as a sign that Izaya wanted him to forget the conversation even happened, which he honestly was happy to do.

“Let's start with getting you off that computer,” he said, ignoring Izaya’s glare, “It's getting late, and I already told you that you're taking the night off.”

With a drawn out sigh, Izaya complied. However, Shizuo didn't miss the light smile that spread over Izaya’s features, if only for a second.

  
  
  
  



	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang, it was only one month to wait this time! Trying my best to crank this thing out. Thank you all so much for sticking with me!!!!

 

Izaya woke suddenly, startled awake by a dream. For a moment, he could still feel the phantom sensation of hands on his body. They were rough, but not rough in a painful sense. Rough in that there was a hint of power behind those hands. They way they had latched onto his hips, preventing him from moving, rough in the way they pushed him against the wall, followed by the sensation of a warm tongue licking and kissing just under his jaw bone--just where he liked it. Perhaps rough was the wrong word. It was passionate. Overwhelmingly passionate making his heart race with excitement, and his--

It was the moment when things began heating up that woke him. He sat up straight suddenly realizing it had been a dream, yet he could still feel all of it as if it had been real. It then hit him that he wasn't in his bedroom. He was on the couch, facing the television and to his right was--Shizuo. Asleep, sitting upright on the couch. It was then that Izaya realized he had been leaning to the right while he slept… leaning against Shizuo.

The man was still asleep. He hadn't moved an inch since Izaya's startled awakening. It gave Izaya a moment to calm down and, to his horror, realize that he was hard.

_ Deep breaths, Izaya, _ he thought to himself.

It took a couple minutes for his body to calm down again, still feeling the high of pleasure from his dream. Of course, it didn't help that the star of his dream happened to be right next to him. Once he was calm again, he turned back to his bodyguard.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, lightly shaking his shoulder.

Shizuo grumbled in response, opening his eyes to look at Izaya. “What, what's wrong?” He mumbled, his voice groggy.

“I'm gonna go to bed,” he began, getting up from the couch, “You can stay here if you're too tired to go home tonight.”

“Okay,” he replied with a yawn. He didn’t seem to realize who he was talking to.

Izaya picked up the remote to turn off the television while Shizuo made himself comfortable on the couch and was asleep again in seconds. Izaya stared at him for a moment, taking in the way the lights from the window lit up his face is a way that softened his features. Shizuo wasn't threatening at all when he slept. In fact, Izaya could picture him cuddling a teddy bear with a child-like innocence. A stark contrast to how everyone else knew the fortissimo of Ikebukuro. When he thought about it, there were probably very few who have seen Shizuo sleep like this. Izaya took in the sight for a moment longer, finally taking his gaze away to drape a blanket over his bodyguard.

“Goodnight, Shizu-chan,” he whispered before turning to head upstairs where his own bed awaited.

…~-~... 

“Oh, wait, go back! I like that movie!” Izaya said, reaching for the remote in Shizuo’s hand. 

“Really? I didn’t think you liked that old martial arts stuff,” Shizuo replied, flipping the channel back. He had initially skipped over one of his favorite movies thinking Izaya would complain about the acting or the lack of a deep plotline.

“But this one is good. The fighting is actually convincing and the camera doesn’t cut away every time someone throws a punch.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“What?”

“I just thought you’d like more thought provoking kind of movies. Stuff with conspiracies and plot twists that makes you think.”

“Those are good too, but sometimes it’s nice to switch off that analytical part of my brain for a bit and just watch someone get punched in the face instead.”

It went against what he imagined Izaya would find entertaining in movies, but Shizuo smiled, slightly relieved they could agree. “Yeah, I like this one too.”

...~Earlier that morning~...

Shizuo woke up alone on Izaya’s couch. He had a vague recollection of Izaya telling him he was going to bed, but he wasn’t entirely sure if that had been a dream or not. Luckily he had remembered to turn on his phone’s alarm before he fell alseep, otherwise he would have been late for work.

Pausing for a moment, he looked up at the upstairs landing of the loft.

It felt taboo to even consider it, but he wanted to check on Izaya before he left. Taking care to be as silent as possible, Shizuo climbed the stairs finding the bedroom rather quickly. There were only 2 rooms on the upper level, one with the door open a crack which turned out to be a second bathroom, even nicer than the other one downstairs. A pang of jealousy hit when he thought about his own apartment’s tiny bathroom, but then he remembered some of Izaya’s wealth came from not so legal means.

The opposite room with the door closed he assumed the be the bedroom. Torn between being polite and knocking versus not waking Izaya if he was sleeping, Shizuo finally decided on the latter, taking a moment to listen for any signs of movement through the door.

When he heard nothing, he slowly and carefully opened the door enough to poke his head through. The room was mostly dark, but the small amount of light from the window fell across the bed, illuminating a figure covered in blankets.

With the utmost care, Shizuo entered the room and headed towards Izaya. Once he was close enough to see Izaya’s face, he shifted positions. Shizuo stepped back, holding his breath as Izaya turned, however he was still in a deep sleep.

Not wanting to push his luck, Shizuo turned, about to leave when he heard a small sound come from Izaya’s direction. Turning back around, he was sure he had been caught.

But he was wrong.

Izaya was sleeping. He was mumbling something, his brow furrowed as he curled up into himself. Another grumble and sudden movement in his sleep turned into a light shivering.

“N-no…”

This time it was distinct. He was sure that’s what Izaya had said. Izaya turned again and Shizuo could see his face clearly in pain, yet still asleep.

_ He’s… having a nightmare…?  _ Shizuo wondered. It was the only explanation. About what was the question. It seemed too intense to be a typical nightmare, meaning he was probably dreaming about… That guy. Or another time he was badly hurt... Maybe even… Their last fight. The one where he left Izaya with two broken arms, a stab wound, and various other injuries he wasn’t even entirely sure about.

Shizuo felt a sting of guilt that Izaya, the person who had never been afraid of his strength before, might be having a nightmare about him.

Should he wake him? Or would that just make things worse? Still it felt wrong to leave him suffering at the hands of his own imagination.

_ It would be better to leave him.  _ Shizuo decided.  _ He wouldn’t want me to see this. _

And so, with a pit in his stomach, Shizuo left the room as silently as he had entered, being sure to softly close the door behind him.

“See you later, Flea,” he whispered.

…~Three Days Later~...

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya began, pausing the movie they had been watching to pass the time. His tone was different than usual. He sounded hesitant; questioning whether or not he should continue speaking. 

“Yeah?” Shizuo responded only to fill the unsettling silence that had fallen over them.

“Do you still want to kill me?”

Shizuo turned to face Izaya, trying to judge what he might be thinking. What brought this on? Why did he suddenly have to ask a question like that? What thoughts could possibly be going on in Izaya’s head while they were just supposed to be watching a movie?

“I’m going to take the lack of response as a ‘yes’,” Izaya said, sounding more confident than he should in their current situation.

“N-no, that’s not--” Shizuo paused, trying to think while Izaya gave him a questioning look, “I was just trying to understand--what brought this on?!”

“Answer my question first. It’s only fair.”

“Would you just--” Shizuo sighed, “Fine, it’s just that… I can’t say ‘yes’ or ‘no’... It’s not like I ever  _ really _ wanted to kill you--”

“Sure seemed like it,” Izaya interrupted.

“It’s more complicated than that, that’s all I am trying to say!” he exclaimed, causing Izaya to narrow his eyes in suspicion. “Listen, yeah, when I’m pissed I do things I regret. I also think some things I regret too.”

Izaya didn’t say anything but gave him a look that said ‘go on’.

“There have been times where I one-hundred-percent wanted to kill you because you did something completely fucked up and in the moment I felt like that’s what you deserved. But if I got the time to think about it… I knew that if I killed you, you would just die happy knowing you fucked up my life by making me a murderer. I would let you go because believe it or not, once I calmed down I knew you only provoked me so you could laugh and call me a monster. Our last fight confirmed that for me and by the end of it I just wanted you out of town, not dead. I guess I always wished that I could just beat you up to the point that you would just learn your lesson and stop being an asshole.”

Izaya considered this for a moment. “That doesn’t sound like you. Just the other day you were mumbling to yourself about killing someone.”

“Because I’m practically a different person when I’m angry. I can’t always control myself” Shizuo explained. “Besides, the only people who ever piss me off that bad are shitty people to begin with-- _ and before you start some shit, _ ” he added suddenly when he saw Izaya about to interject, “I know I don’t get to decide which people are shitty or not, I meant it as my opinion.

“All I’m trying to say is that I guess I just talk big but there are very few people if any that I’d be able to  _ actually _ kill.”

“And I’m not one of them? I thought for sure I’d be at the top of your hit list. Then tell me, who  _ would _ you kill?”

“Hitler.”

“Hitler is already dead.”

“Yeah but if he wasn’t I’d kill him.”

There was a moment of silence before they both broke out in laughter.

“But seriously,” Shizuo continued, “I don’t want to kill people who piss me off. I just want them to stop, and when I’m… like  _ that _ , I don’t really think. Do you get what I mean?”

“I think so,” Izaya said, and smiled. Not a smirk, not that usual shit-eating grin he got when he was scheming. Similar to the glimpse he had seen the other night when he had forced him to take the night off.

A smile. Soft, genuine, and the most human expression he’d ever seen on Izaya’s face. And it was infectious. Shizuo found himself smiling back, nearly forgetting that Izaya still owed him an explanation.

“It’s your turn,” he said, “What brought this on?”

Izaya shrugged, smile fading. “I was just thinking a lot, I guess. About why you were here and how strange it is to be in the same room as you without one of us starting something. It just made me think too much.”

“So turn it off for tonight.”

“What?”

“And I will too,” Shizuo added, “I won’t be me and you won’t be you. We are just two guys sitting on a couch and watching a movie. Forget the complicated shit for now, we can deal with it later.”

“Are you suggesting we act like friends?”

“Why not? We have no reason to be mad at each other right now. You aren’t making some evil plan to piss me off, and you need me around for the moment as a bodyguard so let’s not overthink things.”

_ What am I saying? _ Shizuo thought, _ This doesn’t sound like me at all, but it feels right to say. _

Izaya smiled again and Shizuo’s heart skipped a beat.

_ I think… I’m starting to  _ like _ Izaya… _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit fam here we go


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. Things got weird over the last few months and I didn't have time to write, and when I did have time I couldn't get myself in the right mind set. But like I said, I do fully intend to finish this fic even if it takes a long time. I have part of the next chapter started so there's that... 
> 
> Thank you so much for bearing with me I know what it's like to wait forever for a fic to update!!!!

Dinner. That’s all it was. A nice dinner to thank Shizuo for his services as a bodyguard. They had even gone outside Ikebukuro and Shinjuku to reduce the chance they would be recognized. So why did Izaya feel so uneasy?

Shizuo had smiled. It was a smile that made Izaya feel like he was floating when he saw it. Smiling back had been too easy. At this point he couldn’t even remember what they had been talking about. All he could remember was that smile.

The vibration of his phone caught his attention, tearing his gaze away from the taxi window. It was a text from Shizuo.

 _“Don’t forget to text me when you get home safe.”_ it read.

Izaya caught himself smiling again at the message. It was a change of pace in his life to have someone actually put effort towards caring what happened to him. Whether or not Shizuo genuinely cared and why was another mystery that Izaya couldn’t quite crack.

It had been 4 days since Izaya had tried to ask Shizuo if he cared. Shizuo’s response of “a little” had his mind running wild the past few days; however, Izaya decided not to interrogate him anymore and just let this continue. Whatever “ _this_ ” was.

Izaya could sense dormant feelings beginning to grow again, and tonight those feelings had felt rather intense. Nearly as intense as they had in high school. All of his thoughts seemed to center around Shizuo. There wasn’t a moment he could remember in the past few days that he hadn’t thought of him in one way or another.

He was letting it continue which he knew was a mistake. He knew he should cut ties now and end it before he fell too deep, yet at the same time he knew it was already too late. Soon he might say something stupid. Let slip one of the millions of thoughts swirling in his head. Shizuo would catch on and… likely reject him. Even if he was fine with their “relationship” so far, that didn’t mean moving forward was possible.

His hands shifted in his lap, tightly gripping the fur on the bottom edge of his coat. There wasn’t any denying to himself anymore. After all, he’d accepted that he loved Shizuo a long time ago. He _wanted_ this to go somewhere. But it was just dinner. It meant nothing.

Izaya shook his head and looked up. He was almost home. If he could just lie down for a while and try to think without distractions maybe he could decide what to do. Maybe he’d even go as far as to make a list of pros and cons. When the taxi stopped, he paid the driver and headed inside.

The elevator made a sound when it reached his floor and Izaya stepped out. Lost in thought, Izaya almost didn’t notice.

He shut and locked the door behind him as he entered, but when he turned to remove his shoes he finally saw.

There was a pair of shoes that weren’t his.

His hand was already on his knife before he even had the thought to do so. Silently he stepped into the open, eyes scanning for movement. For anything out of place.

A sound behind him.

He began to spin around, ready to attack when he was caught. His wrists were grabbed and forced behind his back while simultaneously being pushed forward into the nearest wall.

The touch was enough. Izaya could recognize the rough handing and the feel of the man’s hands on his skin.

Jiro leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“Caught you.”

…~-~...

Shizuo checked his phone again. Still no response. Could something have happened? No, he was probably just reading or on a call with someone and hadn’t had the chance to respond.

But what if something happened? Should I give him a few more minutes?

After debating for a moment Shizuo decided to wait.

He’s probably fine. I’ll give him 5 more minutes, then I’ll try calling.

And so he waited...

…~-~...

Izaya wanted to fight back. To scream. To do _something_.

But he was frozen. He could smell his “master” and it made him sick, yet he still couldn’t move.

It didn’t quite feel real, but he knew it was. If he could yell he might get someone’s attention but his voice seemed to have left him. It was all he could do to keep breathing.

“I’ve missed you, my little pet,” Jiro said, his mouth too close to Izaya’s ear. He could feel his breath against his neck and he wanted to shiver but he couldn’t even do that.

“It’s been far too long since I’ve had the chance to feel this soft skin of yours. I trust my _marks_ are still there? You know I almost regret not carving my name into you.”

The clicking sound registered in his head before he made the connection that the cold feeling around his wrists were handcuffs.

“There, that’s better,” he said, now able to hold Izaya against the wall with one hand and his body weight while the other hand gripped his chin to turn his head back. “Now I can get a proper look at you. You’ve grown so much since we last met. I’ve heard you have become a decent information broker.”

Izaya’s eyes met with Jiro’s and a wave of nausea hit him. His thoughts didn’t make sense. He couldn’t focus. He could barely even hear what Jiro was saying over the rushing sound in his ears.

“But of course you have that boyfriend of yours now, Heiwajima Shizuo? And what a man he is. I’ll have to be careful when I snatch you up again.”

The sound of Shizuo’s name struck something inside his head. The fog cleared for an instant and he could focus. His knife was still in his hand, though they were cuffed together. Jiro’s torso was pressed close. If he could move quick enough he could do it.

 _Keep him talking_ Izaya thought. “How did you know he wouldn’t coming home with me?”

“That particular driver happens to be a friend of mine. All I had to do was ask. You’re not the only one with connections, sweet thing--oops!”

Izaya had angled the knife in his hand pointing outwards and with a sudden amount of force used all his strength to push his body away from the wall to fall back against Jiro, but it wasn’t enough. Jiro jumped to the side with one hand still holding Izaya’s wrist. Using the momentum Izaya had created, Jiro pulled on his wrist sharpy to one side and got a leg underneath Izaya, tripping him before he could get his balance back. He hit the ground hard and felt a small pop in his wrist where Jiro held him. In a matter of seconds Jiro was in control again, with Izaya pressed against the floor and a knee in his back holding him in place. That didn’t stop Izaya from struggling, knowing of course that it was futile at this point.

“That was a little too close,” Jiro commented, now using more force to hold Izaya down response to his struggling. With ease he took the knife from Izaya’s hand, his wrist injured just enough that he couldn’t keep hold of his only weapon.

Izaya cursed his lithe body shape. Jiro was physically larger than him and if that wasn’t enough of an issue his wrist made his right hand now unusable for fighting back.

_Vrrr… Vrrr… Vrrr…_

It took Izaya a few seconds to realize his phone was ringing, and another to realize it was probably Shizuo calling. If he could just get his hands to his coat pocket…

“Hmm? Oh that’s got to be him, isn’t it?” Jiro said, grabbing a fistful of Izaya’s hair and jerking his head back. When he spoke again it was a whisper in Izaya’s ear. “Don’t you start fucking him now, you slut. You’re mine, remember? And yes, that’s a threat. Now, I’d better be going. Unfortunately things are not ready for me to take you tonight, but the time will come soon.

“For now, goodnight.”

With the grip on his hair, Jiro lifted Izaya’s head and quickly smashed it against the floor. Izaya was left unconscious while Jiro slipped out the door, closing it gently behind him.

…~-~...

He wasn’t answering.

Damn it, why wasn’t he answering?!  

After the fifth call went to voicemail, Shizuo switched to text a different number, praying for the usual fast response.

“[Celty, I have an emergency and I need to get over to Izaya’s apartment fast. Can you help?]”

The response was inhumanly fast.

“[Izaya’s apartment? I can help, but what’s going on? Where are you? And what’s the emergency?!]”

“[I’m at my place come get me and I will explain just be quick!]”

He would owe her for this but instinct told him something was wrong and he didn’t have many options.

…~-~...

“Wait here,” Shizuo told Celty as he ran into the building.

The elevator couldn’t have moved more slowly. Shizuo nearly hit the wall out of frustration but held back knowing that breaking the elevator wasn’t in his best interest. When he finally reached Izaya’s floor he shot out of the elevator and down the short hallway to the door.

It was closed with no sign it had been forced. Shizuo tried the handle. The door was open and Shizuo’s blood ran cold. Izaya wouldn’t have left the door unlocked.

“Izaya?!” Shizuo called, rushing through the door. He didn’t have to go far. Izaya was unconscious on the floor, his hands cuffed behind his back. In seconds Shizuo was kneeling on the floor next to Izaya, looking around the room for signs someone might be here.

Instinct told him they were alone and Shizuo turned his attention back to Izaya.

“Hey, Flea,” he said, lightly shaking Izaya’s shoulder, “C’mon, please wake up.”

A small pained sound escaped Izaya’s lips before he opened his eyes followed by a louder groan.

“Izaya, what happened? Are you okay?”

The words didn’t make sense at first when Izaya heard them, but he recognized the voice. “Sh-Shizu-chan?” he mumbled.

“Yeah, it’s me, are you okay?”

Slowly everything came back into focus and Izaya remembered where he was. His hands were still bound and he could feel the pain in his wrist causing him to wince. He must have struggled against his bindings just then prompting Shizuo to speak again.

“Let me get that for you,” he said, taking hold of the cuffs. He pulled and Izaya winced again at the movement of his wrist. “Oh, sorry,” he said, adjusting his grip, “I’ll do it fast.”

Izaya grit his teeth as Shizuo pulled at the clasp until it came apart. He did the same with the other cuff, then helped Izaya into a sitting position.

His head hurt more than his wrist, but only just. He was nauseous and his legs felt weak. When he was able to focus he could see Shizuo looking at him intently.

“Damn, that’s a bruise… You probably have a concussion. I’m going to take you to Shinra, okay?”

“Yeah,” Izaya managed.

“Was it… him…?” Shizuo asked, his voice low.

Izaya was still, eyes downcast.

“Can you stand?”

Izaya thought for a moment, considering the weakness in his legs. “A little help would be nice.”

…~-~...

Celty couldn’t believe what she was looking at for a moment. Shizuo, helping Izaya walk out of his apartment building with his arm supporting Izaya by the waist and Izaya’s arm swung over Shizuo’s shoulders.

On their way here Shizuo had explained that he was acting as Izaya’s bodyguard but couldn’t give a solid reason as to _why_. But it did spark some questions. Why would Izaya be desperate enough to ask Shizuo for help? After all they did try to kill each other less than a year ago.

“[Is everything okay?]” She asked.

“For now I think so,” Shizuo answered, “But I think Izaya has a concussion so I want Shinra to check him over.”

“Hey Celty, been a while,” Izaya mumbled sounding ill.

If Celty could roll her eyes she would. She wasn’t exactly happy with Izaya at the moment but if Shizuo wanted her to help she would do it for him.

Celty conjured a sidecar for Shooter with the intention to sit Izaya alone but to her surprise Shizuo chose to join him, sitting right behind Izaya.

There was clearly more to this than what Shizuo had told her, but for now Celty chose not to question it. Instead, she hopped on Shooter and sped off towards home where Shinra would be waiting for her.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another change in my life has happened. Being an adult is hard. But now I have a job for the next couple months. It's only part time but 2 part time jobs can be a hassle. I've had this chapter waiting for a bit because I was going to try and get a few more ahead before I released it but I decided it wasn't fair to hold on to it when the last one was somewhat of a cliffhanger. Still doing my best to keep the story going though. Once again, thank you for the comments and support! It really helps and I appreciate it more than you know!

“You should have told me you were back in Tokyo,” Shinra said while examining Izaya’s injured wrist. 

“As if you’d really care,” Izaya scoffed, “I’m pretty sure everyone was glad to be rid of me.”

Shinra lifted his head to look at Izaya before responding. “You may be an ass but I do consider you my friend. A friend who made some less than ideal choices, but a friend nonetheless.”

“I’m flattered, really,” Izaya said plainly. However, it didn’t feel bad to hear someone say that to him. 

“I’m sure you are,” Shinra said, returning to tend to Izaya’s wrist. “So tell me in your words what happened. Shizuo wasn’t very articulate when he explained.”

“You shouldn’t be asking such complicated things to someone with a concussion, Shinra--ow!”

A sharp pain shot up Izaya’s wrist when Shinra moved it a certain way and Izaya could see the bastard try not to smile.

They were in a spare room where Shinra gave medical attention to the members of Awakusu-kai that Shiki would occasionally bring over. Izaya sat in a chair while Shinra had examined him. He’d determined Izaya had a mild concussion but was otherwise fine. His wrist was questionable. Not broken, but maybe a little worse than a regular sprain.

“Since you can still move it--albeit with pain--my diagnosis is a partially torn ligament,” Shinra stood and began pulling items from a cabinet while he spoke. “We can wrap it for now, give you some ice and painkillers and whatnot but it will heal on its own in a few weeks.”

Izaya didn’t respond right away. He heard and was able to process most of what Shinra was telling him, but his thoughts were beginning to move elsewhere. Thinking about what had just happened to cause these injuries was something of a wake-up call for him. It was clear he would need to take more offensive action if he wanted to protect himself.

“Hey, are you listening?”

The hand waving in front of his face caught his attention more than Shinra talking to him. Izaya refocused his attention resigning to think about how to deal with Jiro later.

“You still need to tell me what happened,” Shinra said, “Both as your doctor and as your friend I would like to know exactly how you got hurt.”

“Don’t think on it too much,” Izaya said, slipping his usual mask back on, “It was just someone who has a grudge against me trying to get revenge. That’s why I hired Shizuo, as he told you, to be my bodyguard.”

“That raises more questions than it answers. I still don’t get why you chose him so soon after you two fought the last time. How are you recovering from that? Honestly I’m surprised the strain on your wrist didn’t re-fracture your arm. And who is this person that you can’t deal with them how you usually handle your enemies?”

“It's complicated,” Izaya mumbled, “he’s smart enough to cover his tracks. Difficult to predict. So until I can, I asked Shizuo to be my bodyguard because I don't doubt his strength like I would others’.”

Shinra was staring at him with an intense expression.

“I mean it when I said don’t think about it too much,” Izaya began, “I was caught off guard and because I am still recovering from being beaten to a pulp by Shizuo, I was overpowered. It won’t happen again, and to answer your question, I do plan to handle this in the usual way. I am still working on a strategy since this one has a little more in the brains department than most of my problem clients.”

Shinra seemed to consider the response for a moment, looking closely at Izaya in a silence that seemed to drag on for minutes despite only being roughly ten seconds.

“Fine,” he said, “I won’t pry if it’s personal. I do want to know more about Shizuo’s involvement with you, but that can come later. However I do need to know how the injuries themselves took place.”

“My wrist was twisted too far, then got a hard hit to the head,” Izaya said flatly.

“I suppose that’s all I’m going to get out of you,” Shinra replied with a shrug, “But I would like to observe you overnight because of that concussion. If you want to shower before I wrap your wrist you should do that now.”

Izaya sighed, feigning disappointment at being required to stay. Truthfully, he felt better knowing he wouldn’t be alone tonight under the roof of a friend and a real monster who was more or less on his side. The opportunity to take a shower and wash away the feeling of Jiro’s hands on him was also welcome, and Izaya accepted.

…~Meanwhile~...

“[I’m not sure I understand what’s going on… Or rather,  _ why _ it’s going on?]”

Shizuo was seated next to Celty on the couch, trying to work out how to explain what was happening  without revealing how much he knew.

“It’s… Complicated,” he said.

“[Well, we have time, so explain!]” Celty responded.

“No what I mean is…” Shizuo struggled to come up with the proper words, “I honestly don’t know how to explain it… I told you what happened up until now but I’m not so sure I can explain  _ why _ .”

“[So you just agreed to be his bodyguard? No questions?]”

“Well no, he had to ask me a few times before I agreed.”

“[And you can’t tell me why you agreed to help him?]”

Shizuo considered this for a moment. “It just… Felt like the right thing to do at the time.”

“[‘The right thing to do’? To begin working for Izaya? So soon after he tried to kill you?]”

“I don’t know. I told you it was complicated.”

“[But there has to be a  _ reason _ . You would never have anything to do with him unless there was a reason. Is he threatening you? Your family? If he is I swear I’ll go force him to stop myself.]” Celty began standing up as if to do just that but Shizuo quickly pulled her back down.

“No, no, nothing like that,” he said, trying to assure her.

“[What then? Please tell me! I just want to know he’s not hurting you or forcing you into something bad.]” Celty demanded.

“I just… listen, he doesn’t know this so please don’t mention it to him… I just happened to learn something about him that I shouldn’t know. Please don’t ask me to tell you because I can’t. Just know that it’s the reason I agreed to help him and he doesn’t know that I know, and it was enough of a reason to sort of temporarily forgive some things while he needs my help.”

Celty stared at him for a moment, if it could be called staring without a head, her hands fidgeting with her phone. Finally she began typing a response.

“[You really can’t tell me what you found out? Is it that bad?]”

“All I can say is it’s something Izaya wouldn’t want anyone to know and for once, given the circumstances I can respect that.”

Celty hesitated. “[To be honest, I don’t accept that answer. But if you really believe that you aren’t being deceived, well, I trust your judgement.]” Celty showed her response and then quickly typed another, raising the message up and placing a hand on Shizuo’s shoulder.

“[If he pulls anything call me right away I swear I’ll kill him for you.]”

Shizuo laughed, though he didn’t doubt Celty’s capability or willingness to keep that promise. “I’ll remember that, but I don’t think it will be necessary. At least I’m hoping it won’t come to that.”

“Okay! That’s enough alone time with my beloved!” Shinra’s cheery tone came from around the corner, “Things are getting too intimate out here without me!”

Black shadows emerged from Celty’s hand, wrapping themselves around Shinra’s mouth to stop him from saying anything else. The shadows pulled Shinra closer as Celty stood, grabbing hold of the collar of his lab coat threateningly once he was close enough. Muffled sound came from behind the shadows as Shinra continued talking, presumably saying something perverted.

“So is he okay?” Shizuo asked, eager to know the diagnosis.

Celty released Shinra, letting him fall onto the couch and sitting back down so that he sat between herself and Shizuo.

“Oh, he’ll be fine. Torn ligament in his wrist and a concussion. He just needs rest which is why I insisted he stay the night--Celty my apologies but we won’t be alone tonight~!”

Celty jabbed Shinra in the side, making him double over.

The sound of water turning on caught Shizuo’s attention, but Shinra explained before he could question it.

“I’ll wrap his injuries once he’s out of the shower. He’ll be fine on his own for a few minutes.”

Silence hung in the room for a moment while thoughts ran wild in Shizuo’s head. He knew Izaya would physically recover, but there were so many other questions. It seemed Izaya wouldn’t be safe at his own place anymore. He was thankful that Shinra had convinced him to stay here for the night. But what about after that? Shinra didn’t know the danger…

“So you knew Izaya was back in Shinjuku when you called me that time, didn’t you?” Shinra’s tone and changed, and Shizuo quickly realized the serious question was intended for him.

“Ah…” he began, shifting in his seat, “Yeah, I did…”

“I had a feeling. It’s not like you to ask about Izaya. There was also that rumor about you two being seen together. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how to explain. I wasn’t trying to decieve you. That particular day I only called because I had suggested Izaya call you and tell you himself, and you confirmed for me that he didn’t.”

“So explain now. I didn’t get much out of Izaya and we have a couple minutes.”

…~-~...

Izaya stared at his reflection in the mirror for a moment, still trying to pull his thoughts together. Having the night to think in peace would be an asset, if only he could think through the fog of anxiety he felt down to his core.

It was a little hazy--because of the concussion--but he could still hear that voice talking to him.

_ Promising _ him.

_ “ _ _ Unfortunately things are not ready for me to take you tonight, but the time will come soon.” _

A shudder went through him, making him feel dizzy. The concussion might be worse than the symptoms he explained to Shinra, but time would tell whether or not that was true.

Tearing his eyes away from the mirror, Izaya turned the water on.

Hot.

As hot as he could stand it to burn away the repulsively familiar feeling of those hands on his skin.

Time slipped away for a moment while he stood under the water, his senses almost going blank while he forced himself to let go of the thoughts flying at him like daggers, ready to inflict agony. For a few minutes, there was only hot water, steam, and the white of the wall.

Once he was finally calm again, Izaya began washing. He forced his thoughts away from the cause of the pain in his wrist, simply taking a shower as he normally would.

…~-~...

“A word of caution, Shizuo,” Shinra began, “Don’t expect Izaya to reciprocate the kindness you are showing him by doing this service. He keeps a barrier between himself and others, only allowing people to get as close as he wants them to. I just don’t want to see you pour your time and energy into doing this service for him and get nothing besides cold, hard cash in return.”

“I understand the risk. It’s not like I don’t know the type of person he is,” Shizuo replied, “But I’m starting to think…” Shizuo paused, “He might be capable, even just a little, of being genuine. On occasion. He did take me out for dinner earlier as thanks.”

“Oh?” Shinra exclaimed sounding surprised, “Maybe you’ve done the impossible and gotten behind the barrier? I’m interested to know how that goes, but I still don’t want to encourage you to get too close.”

“I’ll be on my guard.” Shizuo checked the time on his phone. “He’s been in there a while, should we check on him?”

“I’ll go. You can leave him to me for tonight. Go home and relax for a bit. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

…~-~...

A knock on the door startled him. Izaya had been staring at the wall again, letting the water rush over him when Shinra came to check on him.

“Izaya?” He called, knocking once more, “You haven’t passed out, have you?”

“Shut up,” Izaya responded, turning off the water.

“That answers that,” he heard Shinra say quieter, slightly muffled by the door. When he heard nothing else, Izaya stepped out of the shower and began toweling off and quickly dressed into the clothes he had been provided, being careful of his wrist. The pain was beginning to get worse.

When he exited the bathroom he was greeted by Shizuo waiting outside the door.

“I’m heading out,” he said, “Shinra will wrap your arm in the other room. Try to get some rest and I’ll come back tomorrow if you want.”

Izaya nodded, though he wished Shizuo would stay as well. For a moment they stared at one another, both unsure of what else to say.

“Well I’ll see you,” Shizuo said, turning to leave.

The response was automatic. Izaya reached out faster than should be possible for someone with a concussion and grabbed Shizuo’s hand, holding it tight in his own. He didn’t even realize what happened until Shizuo turned around to look at him.

“I… uhh…” His throat went dry. He had to force himself to let go of Shizuo’s hand. The warmth lingered. “Thank you. For coming to get me.”

“You’re welcome,” Shizuo said, not acknowledging what Izaya had just done. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Izaya spun around leaving the hallway as Shizuo left. His cheeks burned for a moment when it finally hit him how embarrassing that had been. Collecting himself was difficult but necessary if he was going to face Shinra again. Painkillers would be nice. Perhaps Shinra would give him enough to make him forget what he had just done so he could sleep properly.

“Come on, Izaya! I want to get some ice on that wrist and then you can tell me all about the lovely dinner you and Shizuo had earlier!”

It was going to be a long night.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
